Wish Upon a Star
by waterlilylf
Summary: When you wish upon a star, it makes no difference who you are, unless you're the heir to the Winner business empire. So when you do find a means of escape, how long can you hold on to the fantasy, and the man of your dreams, before reality takes over?
1. Beautiful

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing and am writing purely for pleasure.

Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho, for editing, ongoing encouragement and for liking the original idea. 54321......

**Beautiful:**

_We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars. _

Oscar Wilde.

It was so beautiful from Earth, the night sky. Beautiful, and it seemed like he was the only person who noticed. Certainly, none of the people he'd left in the hotel room cared about such things; not unless it might be possible to stick price tags on the stars and sell them at a hefty profit.

The stars, at least, weren't for sale.

Even on the balcony, he could hear Iria saying all the polite, proper things to the Winner legal team, thanking them for their help in this difficult situation, and apologising for keeping them so late.

He should be in there with her, thanking them all gracefully for organising his life, and clearing up the shambles he'd made of it.

'Quatre. When you've quite finished sulking out there, we have things to discuss for tomorrow.'

She was using _that_ voice; that sweetly reasonable, elder-sister voice that had reproached his shortcomings for his whole life. The heir to the Winner family shouldn't expect to miss a special maths class just because his best friend was having a birthday party – even if there were going to be clowns and conjurors, and he shouldn't dream about going on a road trip with college friends when she'd organised an internship for his holidays.

He shouldn't be lurking on a darkened balcony, under all the stars, wishing his life was different. And he couldn't, after all, stay there for ever. Instead, he gave one last, longing look at the sky and went back inside.

'I don't want to do this.' He said it very quietly, a tiny, token protest flung against the destiny that had been decided for him the moment it was known that his mother was going to give birth to a son.

Iria frowned. 'Well, you should have thought of that. We've discussed this, Quatre. It's the best way. Probably the only way, at this stage. If you're unhappy, it's your own fault. We all need to face responsibilities at some point, and you've been indulged for far too long.'

'She doesn't want to do it either.'

His sister's mouth pursed disapprovingly. 'Relena is a well brought up young woman, fully aware of the duty she owes to her family. Unlike that troublesome brother of hers.' She looked like she would gladly have elaborated on the subject of troublesome brothers, but refrained. Such impressive self-control.

Even after twenty-three years of being schooled in that particular talent, Quatre still had his occasional moments of rebellion. 'I like Zechs.' The little spurt of defiance fizzled out as soon as he'd said it. He did like Relena's brother; he'd considered him as a friend, albeit not a terribly close one, but Zechs hadn't bothered to contact him in over a month. He hadn't bothered to return any calls and Quatre had no idea what he'd done wrong. 'He probably won't like the idea of his sister making an arranged marriage.'

Iris sniffed, sitting up even straighter. All the Winner children had had correct posture drilled into them by their very proper English nanny, who had equated a straight spine with moral fibre and virtue. Quatre was slumped in his own chair, chin in his cupped hands.

'Fortunately, it's none of his concern. I see no reason why you two shouldn't find moderate happiness together. She's pleasant, intelligent, charming. She should make you an excellent wife.'

'If I wanted one, I'm sure she would. Except I'm not interested in women.'

'We are all painfully aware of that fact,' Iria snapped. 'It's the reason we're in this mess to begin with. Father tolerated your….peculiarities, and asked only a measure of discretion from you in return.'

'There's nothing wrong with being gay,' Quatre said quietly. There was, though. At least, there was on L4.

'Really?' she demanded. '_Really_? Tell me that if the media find out what's going on, and the Sanque Chamber of Commerce decide they don't want to do business with us.'

'They won't care,' Quatre told her, knowing it was useless. He'd tried saying all of this before. 'It's a liberal country. Homesexuality's been legal here for years.'

Iria snorted; a very unladylike sound. Once, he might have teased her about that. Once, of course, he mightn't have caused her to make a noise like that in the first place. 'We'll see how liberal and tolerant the people here are if they see naked pictures of you and your _boyfriend_ plastered all over their morning papers. And those nauseating letters. I've no idea what possessed you.' She shook her head. 'If you must indulge in those sordid affairs, can't you at least choose men who won't blackmail you?'

'It's not Jordan. It's his new boyfriend, who's a gay rights activist. I've told you all of this,' Quatre said wearily. She was right; she was always right. He'd been a fool. He'd been just eighteen, and madly in love for the first time and Jordan Taylor had been the centre of his universe, his shining star, for three perfect months.

'And need I remind you that homosexuality _is_ a crime on L4; you'll be facing a prison sentence and the other board members at WEI will never permit you to attend another meeting. Both of which will kill Father.' She shook her head briskly. 'I won't let that happen. Now, I've spoken to our lawyers while you were out here moping. If the worst comes to the worst, and they refuse our deals, we'll just claim the pictures are good forgeries. We may need to find some way to discredit them too. It shouldn't be too difficult to find something against two gay men, and if we can't buy them off, we'll look at that option.'

'They don't want money.' Quatre closed his eyes, trying to block out the world for even two seconds. There was no point saying anything like that to Iria; for his sister, the sun rose and the stars shone for money. 'It's the principle of the thing. They know I'm gay; they think I should stop hiding in the closet and be honest.'

'Ridiculous.' Iria looked down her rather long nose at him. 'Anyway, once you've announced your engagement to Relena Peacecraft, no one's going to care about some squalid accusations.' She shuffled some papers in front of her. 'I printed out your schedule for tomorrow. It's probably better for you to keep a low profile for a few days, while we sort all of this out. You can't make the announcement notice until Relena's mother gets back from the United States so I've cancelled most of the interviews I had planned except one.'

She handed him a printout. 'It's at 10 am with a journalist from the _Sanque Financial Times_. It's the most highly regarded paper in this country, and it's also widely read over the rest of Europe. This Mr. Chang will mainly be asking you about the business side of things, but you could slip in a comment or two about Relena. We don't want the announcement to come out of nowhere; that might look suspicious. Just mention the time you've spent together when she visited L4 with her father, and how much you're looking forward to seeing her country. The people of Sanque should like that. Is that clear?'

Quatre nodded. 'I don't exactly have much of a choice, do I?'

'At the moment, no. You don't. I've called those people Father knows, the Noventas, and they'll be glad to have you to stay for a few days. It would look rather odd for you to simply disappear but this way we can say you're visiting old family friends. Rashid can drive you down tomorrow.'

'You think of everything,' Quatre said dryly. This was it then; he was being exiled while Iria sorted out his the shambles he'd made of everything; sent off to stay with people he hadn't met for years.

'Well, somebody has to,' his sister retorted. 'Their estate is apparently in the middle of nowhere. Hopefully, you'll manage to keep out of trouble there.' She stood, placing one hand in the small of her back and stretched. 'There is one other thing. I spoke to Father this morning about your position and he agrees with me that there is no reason why you shouldn't take over as CEO in the next couple of months.'

'It's too soon.' It came out in an appalled whisper. 'Iria, please. I'm not ready for that. I can't.'

'You will,' his sister said inexorably. 'Quatre, we've delayed this for long enough. You know that the Board has only ever tolerated me on a temporary basis, until you were capable of taking over.' She walked over and ruffled his hair; something he'd always hated. 'No more excuses, little one. The AGM is already scheduled for the start of June; this can be the first order of business. There will have to be a vote, naturally, but it will only be a formality.'

Quatre closed his eyes. This was it. He'd been managing to delay it for some years now. He'd wanted to finish university and then he'd wanted to gain experience. You couldn't avoid destiny for ever, though. Or Nemesis.

'I thought we might invite Relena to visit L4 that week,' Iria continued. 'Naturally, she won't attend the meeting itself, but I'm sure the board members and our sisters will want to meet her. Such a very suitable girl for you.' She hesitated, taking a deep breath and Quatre gave her a curious look, despite himself. His very direct sister normally didn't beat around the bush.

'As CEO of Winner Enterprises, you must be totally above suspicion. The slightest breath of scandal could be totally disastrous. I'm sure there's no need to say this, after what's happened this week, but you do realise that your sordid little liaisons will have to stop. I _mean_ that.' She nodded, apparently satisfied that her little brother was sufficiently scarlet. 'You see, you haven't been nearly as discreet as you think, have you? I know exactly what you get up to when you sneak out of the house on your little night-time excursions.'

'What _exactly_ do you know, Iria?' Quatre snapped at her. 'That I prefer catching to tossing? That I like it rough sometimes? Just _how_ closely have you been monitoring me?'

'There's no need to be coarse.' Iria's colour rose delicately. 'I'm going to bed. I suggest you do the same. You want to be fresh for the interview tomorrow and it's late. If you want to go for your usual walk, Rashid will accompany you. I've asked him to wait outside your suite.'

'Am I to consider him as my jailer or my bodyguard?' Quatre asked coldly and had the brief satisfaction of seeing her blush.

'Of course not, Quatre! I'm thinking of your safety; you are free to come and go as you please, but we don't know this city, and it would be better for you not to leave the hotel alone. We don't know if it's safe to go about after dark, for instance.' She leaned over and gave him a brief peck on the cheek.

'This is all for the best, little brother. I'm sorry, but you know we can't live our lives to please ourselves. WEI always has to come first. You were brought up knowing this.' She sighed. 'Father allowed you so much freedom in the expectation that it would make it easier for you to accept responsibility, having had your fun. I think he was wrong, but either way, this is the way things are. The people of our colony depend on the Winners for employment and stability, and we need to increase our trade with Earth. If this treaty with Sanque goes through, it will be a wonderful thing for L4.'

A wonderful thing for L4, Quatre reflected. Of course, his sister was right. Their colony had tried to isolate itself for too long; they needed to rejoin the rest of the universe and Iria had spent years arranging this deal. It was just a shame it required human sacrifices to succeed.

He'd been brought up to know his duty, apart from those three wonderful months he'd been permitted to spend on Earth, just after his eighteenth birthday. Three months of freedom in exchange for a lifetime of duty and responsibility.

Marriage to Relena would never be more than a business transaction. He liked her well enough, but there would never be more than that. Still, he would remain faithful out of respect to her. At least, she deserved that much.

A faithful husband who didn't love her and was marrying her because she was convenient.

Not exactly every girl's dream, Quatre reflected sourly, wandering back out on to the balcony. The city lights were shining brightly now, the stars dimmed in comparison. There was a whole world out there and he was supposed to be happy for the rest of his life with a few treasured memories.

They were all tainted now anyway. His and Jordan's promises to stay together hadn't lasted for long. On Quatre's return to L4, he'd been swallowed up by the greedy organism that was WEI, that was to be his whole life, and the 'phone calls and emails and gradually become shorter and more sporadic.

They'd kept up occasional contact though, even if their lives had gone in polar opposite directions. He'd counted Jordan as one of his few friends.

He had until two weeks ago, when he'd got the first email. It still hurt. That day at the beach had always been one of his happiest, fondest memories; himself and Jordan and a couple of bottles of wine. The first time he'd ever tasted alcohol. When Jordan took out the little digital camera he'd posed and then helped his lover figure out how to work the remote function and take pictures of the two of them together.

Two blond boys on a sunny, deserted beach, flushed with first love.

As Iria had said, he'd been damnably stupid. He didn't even want to think about what would happen if those pictures ever became public. He really didn't want to think that the first person he'd ever really loved was prepared to betray him like this.

It all came down to love and betrayal and duty. That was it. He'd had his brief taste of forbidden happiness, five years ago, and he'd have to spend the rest of his life atoning for one mistake. There was such irony there; he was being forced into marriage with a girl he didn't love, whom he hardly knew, because he'd fallen in love at eighteen.

'I am sorry,' he whispered to the stars. Not quite sure what he was apologising for. Existing. If his mother hadn't died bearing the son his father had so desperately wanted, then Iria would have inherited WEI as the oldest daughter. The Board, the family mightn't have liked but they wouldn't have had a choice.

If Quatre hadn't been born, if he'd died at birth, they'd all probably have been better off.

'I'm sorry.' He leaned over the railing of the balcony and Sanque glittered below him, spread out like a gift, seductive as sin. A whole world that he'd never be able to experience, except from behind a phalanx of bodyguards and assistants and flunkeys.

It would be so very easy just to fall.

Quatre let go of the railing and took two very deliberate steps away from the edge. No.

_No. _

He could go out, of course. Trailing Rashid behind him. Not much of an escape. Quatre nibbled his lower lip, considering. But spending the night here, alone, was not particularly appealing either. Not in this mood.

He could stay here, he could go out with Rashid, or he could….go out without Rashid.

The third option was definitely preferable.

He just needed an escape route.

The waiter who delivered his dinner twenty minutes later was clearly flattered that the young man in the penthouse suite was so appreciative of the rapid service, and delighted with his large tip. He was also more than willing to discuss the layout of the hotel, and reassure Mr. Winner that, in the (highly unlikely) event of a fire, that there were a number of alternative ways out of the hotel other than the main foyer.

Ten minutes later, Quatre was slinking down a staff corridor, smiling his most charming smile at a couple of chambermaids, before slipping out a side door. He'd taken a wad of notes from the safe, and left his cards and ID behind. Never leave a paper trail; Heero had taught him that. For a couple of hours, he could be an anonymous tourist, instead of Quatre Raberba Winner.

He'd even left his 'phone; something that would definitely get him into trouble if anyone found out. He'd left it behind at the last minute, seduced by the heady prospect of no one being able to contact him. He had nothing but a sheaf of deliciously crackling bank notes. No sisters, no retinue of assistants and executives and bodyguards.

Freedom!

It was eight o'clock. He'd need to be back by midnight or so, but that left plenty of time, and he wasn't really sure what to do with these last few hours of liberty.

They'd arrived two days earlier, and hadn't left the hotel since, except for a short stroll the previous night in the hotel grounds. It was a nice area, though; with its paved, cobble-stoned streets and prettily manicured flowerbeds.

It was too early to go to a bar or a club; Quatre thought, drifting up and down the same street and catching sight of himself in a shop window. Just another executive dawdling on his way home from the office.

_That isn't me. That's not who I want to be._

The shop he'd stopped at was a barber's, which seemed as good an omen as any.

Why not?

'Hey,' a young Asian man swept the door open for him. 'What can I do you for?' His eyes swept over Quatre's neat blond hair. 'Please, tell me you want to change your hairstyle.'

'I don't want it cut off or anything. Just styled differently.' He made a face at his reflection in the mirror. He'd worn his hair like that, more or less, since his first day at school, when Iria had combed it neatly back from his forehead and dropped a kiss on the top of his head.

'My pleasure.'

There was a little trimming and a lot of mousse and gel and various other products applied. It took about half an hour, in the course of which Quatre learned the other man's name was Brian, and that he'd opened his own hair salon, his dream, two years previously, and that he seemed to love every aspect of his life.

'Wow! Is that really me?'

'You bet.' Brian crossed his arms, Cheshire-cat smug. 'Can't beat the just-got-out-of-bed tousled look, I always say. You actually look like a young guy now, not like you're trying to add ten years to your age.'

Quatre grinned at himself. Iria would have a fit if she could see him like that. The WEI board members would have coronaries.

'Can you recommend a good place to buy some clothes?'

'Clothes that go with your hair, or clothes like the ones you've got on?'

'Clothes that go with the hair,' Quatre said promptly.

'Right answer.' Brian beamed. 'Smart or casual? And how much d'you want to spend?'

'I just want to go to a bar for a drink or maybe a club to hear some music. The money's not important.'

'Wow. Another right answer. Listen, once you go out the door, take the next right and then left to Victoria Street. There're some nice boutiques down there.'

Quatre nodded. 'I was going to have dinner somewhere after. I don't know if you'd be interested in dining with me when you close the shop?'

'I'd like it, but my boyfriend wouldn't be too happy.'

'Oh!' Quatre blushed. Nicely done, Winner. Perfect. 'I'm sorry. I didn't know.'

'Don't apologise. Not every day I get hit on by a blond bombshell. If you're serious about the club, don't go to the Lemon Tree; it's a meat market and you'll be eaten alive. Stardust is probably your best bet; they get a nice crowd and they have live music sometimes. It's a pretty hang out for singles; you'll have no problem hooking up with someone if that's what you want.'

Was it? Quatre wasn't sure; he wasn't actually sure how the dating scene in Sanque worked, whether a nightclub would have private rooms for when the dancing become more intimate.

'Stardust.' The name was probably a good omen. It wasn't nine o'clock yet. He could buy some casual clothes, have a quick dinner somewhere and a drink at the club. Maybe even dance a couple of times if he met someone nice. Possibly more.

And then go back to the Sanque Sheraton and comb out his hair and take off his new clothes and be Quatre Raberba Winner again.


	2. Blond Bombshell

Disclaimer: they are not, obviously, mine.

Note: Many, many thanks to everyone who reviewed chapter 1, and to KS for editing. For some reason, everyone seems to think that Quatre's about to meet Trowa….

**Blond Bombshell:**

Beer was just wonderful, Quatre thought dreamily. Wonderful. The most wonderful substance in the whole universe. Such a lovely colour – amber-gold with bubbles and if you held a glass to the light you could see tiny suns and stars sparkling and dancing through the liquid.

And the ice-cubes clinked so prettily when he lifted his glass.

It was just a shame, really, that he disliked the taste so much. He took another long swallow, thinking of it as medicine, and put the glass down, beaming at the man standing behind the bar.

'May I have another glass of beer please?'

'I think he's had enough for one night, Frank.' The new voice, soft and deep, came from somewhere behind him, and Quatre swivelled around on his stool so fast that he almost pitched forward on to the floor.

'Easy there.'

Oh, it just wasn't fair that a voice could be so softly melodious and deep and hold so many layers of concern and amusement and just an edge of authority. He'd rested a hand on each of Quatre's shoulders, holding him carefully in place.

'Thank you. But I'm ferfectly pine…I mean, I'm perfectly fine.' Damn, he'd been trying to sound so dignified and had to spoil it all with a loud hiccup.

'I know you are. Frank, can I have a large glass of water please? And you know perfectly well that there are laws about selling more alcohol to people who are drunk.'

Quatre's indignant 'I'm not remotely drunk' chimed with Frank's equally offended 'he's only had one glass.'

'I am not drunk,' Quatre repeated, this time managing not to mangle his consonants. 'Anyway, it's none of your business. None of anyone's business.'

It wasn't either. Even if the man had the most amazing voice, what Quatre did wasn't any of his concern. He'd been having such a lovely time. He'd danced a couple of times, trying to pretend he was actually the blond bombshell Brian had called him, trying to pretend that he was the sort of person who was allowed to go to clubs and dance, and have fun.

It had been fun.

And now this total stranger had turned up out of nowhere and wanted to boss him around, like everyone else in the universe did, and it was intolerable.

'I am quite capable of looking after myself, thank you very much,' he snapped, sliding off the stool. The other man didn't let go of him, which effectively meant Quatre walked straight into an embrace.

He was tall, quite a bit taller than Quatre, and good-looking. Very good-looking in fact, even if one side of his face was mostly hidden by a swathe of hair falling across his forehead. Oh, it was very, very tempting to sweep that hair to one side, to see how it felt, to see if his other eye was a match for that gleaming jade colour.

'Of course you are. Frank, can I have that glass of water? And a shot of whiskey for myself?'

'You're humouring me,' Quatre muttered crossly, taking the glass he was handed. It tasted wonderful; ice-cold and clear and fresh. Sadly, this annoying, persistent man had let go of him to take the drinks. He missed that contact; he couldn't remember the last time anyone, except his sisters, had touched him, even casually. Except Brian, and he'd been paid to do so, so it didn't count.

'I wouldn't dream of doing anything of the sort. Frank, another glass of water when you're ready. '

'And you're laughing at me.' Quatre drained the second glass and fished out the slice of lemon to chew. That was _so_ much better; at least he'd got rid of the nasty taste of the beer!

'Wouldn't dream of it.' He had a lovely mouth, and perfect teeth when he smiled. 'Now, are you going to throw up?'

'Certainly not! I'm fine.'

'In that case, would you like to dance?'

'Why?' Quatre crossed his arms across his chest and glared into laughing green eyes. He wasn't used to being laughed at. He wasn't sure that he liked it. 'Aren't you scared I will get sick on you?'

'You just said you wouldn't and I trust you. Anyway, I'm willing to risk it. You're cute when you pout, do you know that?'

'I am not pouting!'

'Uh huh.' One long finger, still cold from holding the frosted glasses, traced the outline of Quatre's mouth. 'You're frowning, you've got your bottom lip stuck out. Very definitely a pout. Come on, one dance?'

'I'm not sure if I want to dance with you. You're very bossy.'

'Bossy,' the other man mused, finger stroking Quatre's cheek. 'I wish you wouldn't call me that. Can't I be masterful or dominant? They sound much more impressive.'

Quatre shook his head. 'Sorry. Not when you're wearing a Hello Kitty watch.'

'Damn.' He threw back his head, laughing. 'It's my niece's. I forgot that I was wearing it.'

'That's what they all say,' Quatre teased, belatedly realising that he'd somehow gone from offended to flirting. How had that happened?

'All right. If I admit it's mine, will you dance with me?'

Quatre dropped his eyes. 'I'm not a very good dancer. Really.' It was more or less true, just because he'd never had much chance to practice. He'd been to a few clubs with Jordan; he'd been to a few highly secret clubs on L4 where dancing was usually a brief preliminary to a much deeper connection.

'Nor am I. It doesn't matter anyway. I just want to have an excuse to hold you.'

'I'm not sure if that's sweet or corny.'

'You could always give me the benefit of the doubt. And it's true. Now, come on.'

Quatre supposed that he could have wrenched his hand free from the other man's fairly light grasp if he'd wanted. He didn't want.

He'd lied about not being a good dancer. He hadn't lied about wanting to hold Quatre, it seemed . It felt wonderful.

'I thought you said you couldn't dance.'

'So did you,' Quatre retorted.

'I know.' Green eyes glinted under the strobe lighting. 'But I'm the sort of guy who bosses total strangers around and wears little girls' jewellery. You can't expect someone like me to be honest with you.'

'What's your name?' Quatre asked suddenly. He hadn't meant to. He'd allow himself one dance with an anonymous stranger; one happy, flirty little memory to hug to himself.

'Trowa. What do I call you?'

Quatre swallowed at the question. Not 'what is your name?' He wasn't sure what that meant. 'Quatre.' He had to shout it over a sudden burst of loud music and Trowa shook his head. 'Call me Cat.' People on Earth sometimes found it hard to pronounce his name; it was easier just to shorten it.

'Cat. OK.' The music slowed, and then they weren't dancing so much as swaying together. One of Trowa's hands was resting on his hipbone, stroking lightly and the other was on the back of his neck. Quatre closed his eyes, letting his head fall against Trowa's shoulder, wanting to remember every second of this.

He'd expected the slow dance would herald a make-out session, but Trowa seemed happy just to hold him.

'This is really nice,' he murmured into the soft fabric of Trowa's shirt, not sure if Trowa would even be able to hear him.

'Isn't it?'

Quatre smiled faintly as Trowa tightened his arms around him.

'I could hold you like this all night, you know.'

'I could go along with that.' Quatre lifted his face, still smiling, and felt Trowa's lips curve against his.

'I could do this all night too.' He tasted of whiskey. He was very gentle. Quatre had never been kissed like that, never. He never wanted it to stop.

The music stopped them, in the end. The slow song came to an end, replaced by a jarring cacophony of sound.

He let Trowa take his hand and lead him off the dance floor.

'There's another bar on the roof terrace. It's quieter. You want to go up there for a drink?'

Quatre nodded, following him up a spiral staircase. 'Do you come here a lot?'

'Fairly often. Your first time, right?'

'Is it that obvious?'

'I know most of the regulars. And your accent isn't local.'

'No, I'm from L4.' Quatre gasped as they stepped on to the roof; there was a small bar, festooned with twinkling fairy lights, and a few stools and tables. And a starlit sky, and the city lights below. 'This is amazing.'

'I know. Sometimes I come here just so I can watch the stars. What do you want to drink?'

'Just a glass of mineral water or something. I don't really drink alcohol much.' He grinned ruefully. 'As you probably guessed.'

'It wasn't that hard.' Trowa's smile was teasing.

Instead of being offended, Quatre felt oddly warm. He didn't really mind Trowa laughing at him.

'So how come you were trying to drown your sorrows in a glass of beer?'

'It's a long story. I've just had an incredibly bad day and I needed to get away for a bit.'

'Do you want to talk about it?' Trowa settled them at a small table in a quiet corner, ordering two glasses of iced tea.

'Not really. Just family stuff.'

'All right. So what are you doing in Sanque?'

'I'm on holiday.' That, for these few hours, was true enough. It wasn't as if he could tell Trowa the truth.

_I'm here to finalise a trade treaty between the Sanque government and my family's company. And announce my engagement to a girl I've only met a couple of times. And hide from my ex-boyfriend who's trying to out me. _

How had his life become so very complicated? I had all been so much easier when he could just hide away in his office, and try to pretend that he was just another WEI employee, that he wouldn't have to run the company one day.

Now, he didn't even have that tiny fantasy to escape into. Life was about to become pure, harsh reality. The CEO of Winner Enterprises would live his entire life under public scrutiny.

That was the way things were.

'I'm glad I met you,' he said suddenly, meaning it. There would always be that one little prism of light in the darkest day of his life. He'd met Trowa. In another lifetime, in another reality, perhaps they could have been friends. 'I'm sorry if I was rude to you before. You were only trying to help me. I'm really, really glad you just happened to come and order a drink when you did.'

Trowa smiled; just a slight quirk of his lips. 'It wasn't exactly a coincidence. I'd been watching you since you walked in the door.'

'Watching _me_? Why?'

The little smile deepened. 'Haven't they invented mirrors on L4?' He reached out and teased one tousled lock of blond hair around a finger. The smile died; it had never reached his eyes, Quatre realised suddenly. 'You looked really lost. Like you weren't quite sure what you were doing here. I've seen guys look like that before, the first time they go into a gay bar, the first time they take that first step. You know?'

Quatre nodded, remembering himself at eighteen, letting Jordan persuade him to go to his first gay club. He'd been terrified. Two years later, back on L4, he'd finally taken the plunge and visited one of the discreet, top-secret gay bars, driven by desperate loneliness.

'It's not really like that. I've been to places like this before. Just not for a while. And it's, well, it's difficult at home.'

'Yeah.' Trowa said it very softly. 'My best friend's from L2; he's told me what it's like on some of the colonies. What's your real name?'

'Quatre. But people do call me Cat sometimes.'

'Quatre.' He pronounced it properly, which most people on Sanque couldn't do. 'I like that. What do you do when you're not on holiday?'

'I work for my family business. Not very exciting. And you?'

'I run a bookshop.' The hand stroking Quatre's hair stilled suddenly. 'What were you looking for when you came here tonight? Honestly?'

'Honestly?' Quatre slid his hand over Trowa's. 'I just wanted to get away for a couple of hours. I had a row with my older sister earlier. She, well, my mother died when I was born and Iria is a lot older so she's practically my surrogate mother. Anyway, I just needed to escape for a little bit from where I'm staying and I met someone earlier who recommended this place…so here I am.'

'The place where you're staying is that bad?' Trowa's eyebrow, the one not hidden by his fall of hair, lifted. 'You're not staying in one of those fleapits down by the docks, are you? They're total dives. My friend Duo stayed there for a week when he first came to Sanque and he still bitches about it.'

'No. My hotel is quite nice, but I just needed to get out.' Quatre agreed, hoping Trowa would put his sudden blush down to the fact that the other man's fingers had begun to caress the back of his neck. He was hopeless at lying, and he hated lying to someone he liked. Really liked.

Anyway, most of what he'd told Trowa was essentially true. He and Iria had had a row, and he'd needed to escape; all very true. He'd just omitted a few of the details, and it wasn't as if he could tell a virtual stranger any of his real problems.

'Poor Quatre.' They'd been sitting close together anyway, close enough for legs and arms to brush. It was easy for Trowa to pull him into his lap, and slide both arms around him. 'Are you feeling better now?'

'Now, I am.' Quatre snuggled against him. If he closed his eyes, and tried really hard, he could make himself believe that this was his reality, even for a little while.


	3. One not so Enchanted Evening

Disclaimer: Not mine. Do I need to say it?

Note: Thanks to KS, editor-in-chief, and to everyone who has sent such lovely reviews. Much appreciated!

**One (not so) Enchanted Evening:**

'You know,' Trowa murmured into his hair, 'I wasn't lying when I said I could hold you like this all night. If you'd prefer not to go back to your hotel, I don't live that far away.'

Ah. There it was. Not so different from L4 after all, although Trowa had taken his time about it. Or maybe it was just how they did things in this country; you could take time to enjoy a drink, and some dancing and a little conversation mixed in with all the flirting. Time to look at the stars.

He hadn't expected it to be quite so blatant, for some reason. They'd spent the past hour huddled together in a corner of the rooftop bar, watching the stars, and talking. He and Jordan had had evenings like that once, where they could just enjoy each other's company, knowing they would end up in bed at some stage.

'I can't.'

'This is it, then?' Trowa's hands tightened around his waist. 'The two ships that pass in the night thing?' He snorted softly; a bitter little sound of self-mockery. 'Fuck, could I get any more clichéd than that?'

'I'm sorry.' It just wasn't possible. It had been, perhaps, a possibility in his mind at the start of the night. If he'd found someone, he could have found an hour to be with them. And then he'd met Trowa and an hour wouldn't be nearly enough. He tilted his face slightly in invitation, and the other man's lips caressed his. So sweet. 'Trowa, I should be going.'

Abruptly, Quatre found himself decanted on to the ground, the movement so sudden that he stumbled a little. This time, Trowa didn't try to help him.

'Right. Is there someone waiting for you at home?'

'It isn't like that.'

Trowa's long fingers, fingers that had been touching him a minute earlier, swept the dark hair back from his face. 'Tell me what it's like then. And don't tell me you're not into me because I won't believe you. Is it that you're not into one night stands? Because you know damn well it's more than that.'

Quatre gave him a jerky little nod. 'Of course I know that.'

He couldn't, to save his life, have explained how. Except that talking to Trowa could be like a soaring flight from a cliff-top, into the exhilarating unknown, or like talking to his own soul.

Trowa stood up, not touching, but standing so close his presence was a tangible thing, and winced at a burst of raucous laughter from a group at the bar. 'Listen. Can we go somewhere quieter and get a coffee or something and talk? You can't just walk away from me like this.'

'There's no point. I'm only in Sanque for a few days.' He let one hand, poised to reach out and take Trowa's, drop by his side. There wasn't any point. Instead, he reached up on tiptoe, and touched the other man's lips with his own.

He was halfway down the stairs, alone, when Trowa caught up with him. 'Cat. Wait.' Something was pressed into his hand; a small square of cardboard. 'This is where I work. If you change your mind, give me a call. Even if you just want to talk. OK?'

'OK.' The card slipped into his wallet, without his eyes leaving Trowa's. 'Are you going to stay here?'

'Sure. I'll have another drink; see if I can find any more blond dudes in distress.' He shrugged. 'I'd really rather not wave while I'm watching you walk out of my life.'

'Don't.' Quatre's arms wound themselves around the taller man's neck, and he tried to pour everything into the kiss. Desire, regret, passion, apology, affection, gratitude. Sorrow and impossible love.

It was ridiculous. He'd spent a couple of hours, no more, with the man. Impossible that he could be so strongly affected. They'd only just _met_.

Head down, blinking away tears, he walked straight into a warm solid body at the foot of the staircase.

'Hey, sorry.' Bright hazel eyes grinned at him as the other young man righted himself, one hand briefly resting on Quatre's hip for support. 'Wasn't looking where I was going. You OK?'

'Fine. It was actually my fault.'

There was a taxi rank outside and a short queue. Stupidly, he'd almost expected one of the Winner limousines to be waiting for him. Of course not; nobody knew where he was.

It might have been an exhilarating thought at another time. Now, he could only think of Trowa, whom he'd never see again. Still, he had the card with the man's contact details. He fished into his pocket; he could just look.

He couldn't. His wallet was missing. He'd had it inside; he'd insisted on buying a round of drinks. He'd had it when Trowa gave him the card, and there was no possible way it could have fallen out of his pocket since then.

Oh.

Idiot, that he was, he'd fallen prey to the most obvious scam in the book. _Idiot_.

Most of the contents didn't matter. He'd only brought cash; there were no credit cards, nothing with his name on it. No incriminating evidence. But he'd lost Trowa's card, and that hurt.

Of course, he'd never have called him, but it would have been nice to have physical proof that the man existed. Now, he didn't even know his surname.

'Hey.' He'd somehow ended up at the front of the taxi queue, with a somewhat irate driver glaring at him. 'You want to go somewhere or stand there all night?'

'Oh, yes please. I'd like to go to the Sheraton.' Quatre paused with one hand on the door handle. 'I'm sorry, but I've just had my wallet stolen. Will it be all right if I pay you when we get there? I'll be more than happy to pay extra for any inconvenience.'

'Yeah, sure you will,' the man snarled. The door was abruptly yanked out of his hand and slammed shut, narrowly missing a couple of fingers. 'I've had that con played on me before. Now sod off.'

The two men behind Quatre edged into the car, grinning at him. The taller one gave him a sympathetic look. 'Where d'you want to go, Blondie? We can give you a ride if you want.'

It was almost tempting. They looked nice enough and surely they wouldn't try anything in a taxi. But he'd attended enough anti-kidnapping seminars to know that you didn't, ever, get into a car with strangers. Heero would kill him for forgetting that. Of course, his best friend was going to kill him anyway, for being alone in a strange place with no money.

_Think, Quatre._

He could go inside and use the 'phone to call Rashid. Which would probably mean the entire Maguanac Corps descending on the nightclub, ready to protect poor little, lost Master Quatre. Ugh. He could go inside and borrow a taxi fare from Trowa. That was a temptation; he'd get to see him again.

No.

It wasn't far; he could walk. A walk would be pleasant. The club was a couple of blocks from the waterfront; he'd easily find his hotel from there. The walk stopped becoming pleasant once he'd turned a couple of corners. There were still streetlights, but all the buildings were locked up and it was just a little spooky to someone who'd never been out at night alone.

Silly; a deserted street couldn't be any danger. And then the street wasn't deserted any more. There were six of them; all around Quatre's age, all in battered leather and denim.

'We saw you earlier, leaving that fag club.'

A second youth stepped up, smirking. 'This used to be a nice place, 'til all those queers moved in. thinking they own the place. How about you just hand over your wallet and we'll let you get back to your boyfriend?'

'It's already been stolen,' Quatre said quietly. 'I'm sorry; I don't have anything.'

He could fight, if he had to. Rashid, and later Heero, had at least taught him to defend himself. They wouldn't expect a _pretty little queer_ to put up a fight, so he'd have the advantage of surprise, despite the odds.

There were six of them, and no one had ever imagined that Quatre Winner would have to defend himself against a street gang. Potential assassins and abductors, yes, but not this. Even Heero had never envisaged this particular scenario. He was going to be furious.

Quatre would have given anything, _anything_, to have his friend by his side at this moment. Still, he'd had years of sparring with Heero. That would have to do.

He managed to get in a few blows, and that just made them angrier. They'd probably thought he'd just curl up and cry, but he'd hurt a couple of them, and been hurt in return. The leader had smashed a fist against his face, and then one of them had given him a good punch to the ribs.

'What do you know?' The shaven-headed one asked. 'The little fag thinks he can fight. What else d'you know how to do, Blondie? You good at sucking dick?'

'Jesus, Karl, that's sick,' one guy muttered, moving away into the shadows, but the others drifted closer. They'd all been drinking; Quatre could smell the alcohol. Drunk and bored and looking for amusement.

'He's a pretty little thing,' Karl crooned softly. 'Bet that nice mouth would feel just as good as a girl's, right?'

Oh, God.

This was … happening. It couldn't be happening. Not to him. Except it was, and nobody knew where he was, and it was all his own fault.

'Let him go.' It was, miraculously, Trowa. Really Trowa; not some sort of mirage. You probably didn't get mirages in Sanque.

'Oh, yeah?' Carl abruptly let go of him, and Quatre half fell to the ground. 'Who're you, his boyfriend?'

'That's right,' Trowa said equably, moving into the pool of light. 'His very protective boyfriend.' Lamplight glinted on the blade in his hand. 'Which of you fuckers am I going to have to cut first?'

He knew how to use the knife. Even Rashid would have been impressed, Quatre thought stupidly. It was all happening too fast. And then it was just the two of them, and blood on the ground.

'Are you all right?' He was kneeling over Quatre, concern etched into that handsome face. 'Shit. D'you need to go to the hospital?'

'I don't think so.' His face hurt, but he didn't think his nose was broken or anything. Apart from that, his chest ached, and his right leg stung, where he'd landed on the tarmac. 'Trowa, thank you. Thank you so much.'

'What the fuck did you think you were doing?' Trowa was yelling suddenly. 'You don't know this city; you don't know the dangerous areas. You can't just wander off alone like that.'

'I know it was stupid.' Absurdly, despite the pain and the shock, he was smiling. Trowa wasn't really angry; he was only shouting because he'd been worried. 'I didn't mean to get lost. How did you find me?'

'Frank the barman saw you take off by yourself when he was taking a cigarette break. He told me and I went after you. Why didn't you wait and get a cab?'

'Someone picked my pocket.' Quatre dropped his eyes, feeling like such a fool. 'Thank you for looking for me.'

'You were giving a pretty good account of yourself, if you're the one who'd already had a go at a couple of those bastards.' Trowa shook his head, tilting Quatre's face and wincing. 'Sure you don't need a doctor?'

'I don't think so. It's just scrapes and bruises mostly. Trowa, do you think you could lend me the money for a taxi? I promise, I'll pay you back.'

Trowa's mouth set in a firm line. 'Don't be so stupid. I'm not letting you go back to some hotel by yourself after all this. You can come home with me for tonight.'

'I can't.'

'You'll do as you're told,' Trowa ordered. 'You can trust me. If you don't want to be alone with me, I can call my sister and get her to come over.'

'It isn't that. Really. It's just….' He couldn't think of a good enough excuse. Well, he probably could have if he'd tried, but it was so tempting, just to go with the other man. And if he went back to the hotel, looking like this, someone would ask questions and he'd have to make all sorts of explanations and he could always get up early in the morning… 'I don't want to be a bother,' he said finally, lamely.

'You're not. Come on.'

Trowa had parked by the entrance to the alleyway. 'Get in, and pray we don't meet any police on the way home. I shouldn't be driving, but I didn't exactly have time to wait in line for a cab.' He flicked Quatre a quick grin. 'I shouldn't be carrying that knife around either.'

'I'm very glad you were. Trowa, did you….really hurt any of them?'

'Not as much as I should have. Should have killed the fuckers, but then there'd be the bodies to dispose of.'

Quatre laughed; he couldn't help it. It was the sort of thing that Heero would say.

Trowa lived up a flight of narrow stairs; climbing them hurt. He left Quatre alone in his bedroom for a few minutes, while he collected ice and a first aid kit. By then, Quatre had stripped down to his underwear and was gingerly touching his side.

'Hey, I'll do that. Hold this to your face.' Trowa handed him an ice-pack, and ran one tentative finger down Quatre's side. 'You're sure nothing's broken?'

'I'm sure. Like I said, it's really just scrapes and some bruising.'

'Shit.' Trowa swore, turning Quatre's face into the light. 'Bastards. I wish I had bloody killed them. How bad does it hurt?'

'It's OK.' Quatre flinched as Trowa dabbed some lotion on his face. 'Ouch.'

'Wuss.'

'Thanks for the sympathy.'

'I don't give sympathy to people who put themselves in danger out of sheer stupidity. Why the hell didn't you come and ask me for some money?'

Quatre sighed. 'It was hard enough leaving you once.'

'Yeah. Tell me about it.' Trowa took his hand, kissing the palm gently. 'This wasn't quite how I'd been fantasising about getting you undressed. You're still a bit shaky; why don't you get into bed and warm up a bit? I'll get you a couple of painkillers. Can I get you something to drink? Food?'

'I'd love something to eat.' He'd forgotten all about dinner. 'If it's no trouble.' He couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten. There had been a buffet lunch but he hadn't been hungry.

'What would you like; a sandwich or something a bit more filling?'

'A sandwich would be perfect. Please. Um, do you think I could borrow a t-shirt or something?'

'Don't feel you have to cover up for my sake, Cat.' Nevertheless, he stood and rummaged in the chest of drawers beside the bed, flicking a quick sidelong glance at the young man perched on his bed. 'I like the underwear. Very classy. Here you go. I'll just be a sec.'

The soft, worn cotton t-shirt was black, advertising a band he'd never heard of; playing in concert two years previously. An odd little piece of Trowa's history. He'd kept it, despite the fraying hem and a small rip in one sleeve. He liked music; he attended concerts and bought souvenirs.

Quatre slipped in and slid under the bedcovers at the sound of Trowa's footsteps outside the door. That was better. At least he couldn't see the damage those men had done to him. If you can't see it, it doesn't exist. That was like something Iria would say. Heero would say that unseen threats were the worst.

'Here you go.' He handed Quatre a plate and a mug. 'Hope you like cocoa?'

'Yes, thank you.' Quatre took a mouthful and almost spat it out. 'What did you put in this? It's revolting.'

'A slug of brandy and three spoonfuls of sugar. Good for shock.'

'I'm not in shock.'

'Then you damn well should be.' Trowa took the mug from his suddenly shaking fingers and wrapped him in the warmest, most loving embrace imaginable. 'It's OK. I've got you. I'm not going to let anything hurt you. I promise.'

'Sorry,' Quatre muttered finally. 'I don't normally fall apart like that.'

'Sometimes, it's a good thing just to let go,' the man holding him commented. 'Cat, can I ask you something? Why did you run off on me earlier?'

'Because I wanted to stay, too much.'

Their eyes met.

'Shit.' Trowa's arms clasped him even tighter, then muttered a quick apology when Quatre winced. 'Listen, we'll talk about all this in the morning. If it helps at all, this is scaring the hell out of me too. You'll feel better after a night's sleep.'

'OK.' Quatre murmured obediently. There were times when it was rather nice to be told what to do. 'Trowa, you told those men you were my boyfriend.'

'Yeah. There wasn't exactly time to be pedantic, was there? Sorry.'

'I wasn't complaining.' Quatre took a bite of his sandwich and peeked shyly up at Trowa. 'May I ask you something now? When you say that _all this_ is scaring you, what exactly did you mean?' He took a deep breath, waiting for the other man's answer. Maybe he hadn't meant what Quatre wanted it to mean. Maybe he'd been referring to the street fight, although he'd acted like it was nothing out of the ordinary for him to pulverise a gang single-handed. Maybe it wasn't. It wasn't like Quatre really knew anything about him.

Cat might be a free-spirited person who was happy to live on a cliff edge of wonder. Quatre Raberba Winner liked things to be clear.

'You know what I meant.' Trowa reached out and brushed the pad of one thumb across Quatre's lower lip. A tiny, insignificant touch that made every nerve in his body shiver with delight. 'This. I just met you a couple of hours ago and now I can't imagine my life without you in it. Yes?'

'Yes.'

Trowa pulled his hand back and Quatre instinctively leaned his face closer, wanting that touch again. Oh, this was madness. Insanity. There was no way he could ever have Trowa in his life. Except that he wanted to, so very badly.


	4. Taking Stock

**Disclaimer: They're not mine; I don't make money from this.**

Note: Thank you to KS, for the proofy stuff, and to everyone who's been generous enough to comment. A few people asked about Duo so…..

**Taking Stock:**

Although he hadn't technically lived there for over a year, Duo Maxwell still got the 'going home' feeling when he rounded the corner of Victoria Street into Victoria Crescent and saw the bookshop.

It looked good in the early morning sunlight; they'd repainted it just a couple of months ago, and it was still all new and shiny. Trowa had done most of the woodwork in a lovely glowing red, that set off the honeysuckle-coloured walls, and the rest of the them had done the creative stuff.

Duo had covered the walls, inside and out, with imaginary creatures – sinuous, elegant dragons; delicate unicorns, and a gorgeous, ethereal phoenix. Trowa's nine-year-old niece, who fancied herself as a budding artist, had painted princesses and goblins and trolls. Her mother, Tro's sister Cathy, and Middie, the college student who helped out part-time, both of whom had zero artistic talent, had coloured in the trailing flowers and plants Duo had drawn for them.

It was nice; the fact that they'd all helped. Like a sort of family thing.

As he always did, he swung off his bike to rub one toe on the paving slab where he'd first met Trowa. Tro had caught him doing it once or twice, but he'd never said anything. He was pretty good that way; he teased Duo non-stop about the little things, but he was smart enough to know what was important.

And that meeting had been damn important; the start of a whole new life. When the tall guy came out of the bookshop, and walked over to Duo, he hadn't been all that surprised. After a couple of months in Sanque, he'd realised that most of the locals, especially the ones who owned businesses, weren't overly keen on people drawing chalk pictures on the pavement outside their premises.

Instead, Trowa had proffered a mug of soup. That was a new approach. He'd been shouted at, and offered money to leave, and offered rather more money in return for certain intimate services, and threatened with the cops, and told that people like him had no business in Sanque.

'I don't need charity,' he'd said bluntly, shoving his sticks of coloured chalk back into the satchel. The soup smelled really good, and it was a cold day, and those fingerless gloves he'd stolen weren't as effective as he'd hoped they might be. Winter in Sanque sucked. Still better than L2 though.

'It's not charity.' That was the first thing Trowa had ever said to him. 'My sister made this, and she makes the worst soup in the universe. You'll be doing me a favour if you take it; less for me. If you want, you can come into the shop and have it.'

'How d'you know I won't steal stuff?'

That seemed to be the typical reaction to a long-haired, scruffily dressed guy with an L2 accent; that he'd steal anything that wasn't nailed down. Sometimes, you just had to live down to people's perceptions.

Trowa just shrugged. 'If you want a book that badly, I'll give you one. Come on.'

Duo had followed him, not really knowing why. He wasn't about to be a charity case for some bleeding-heart do-gooder; he really wasn't into going off with strange men. But he'd followed Trowa and that had been that.

He'd found a home, even if he didn't actually live there now, and a family. All he'd ever wanted.

And that even made getting up at six on a Sunday morning bearable. He wouldn't tell Tro that, naturally; he'd bitch and moan a bit just because his friend would expect it, but he didn't mind all that much.

Duo sucked in his breath as he crossed the street. It looked like someone had overslept. The curtains at Tro's bedroom window were tightly closed, and the blinds were still down at the shop window.

He was grinning broadly as he let himself in, propped his bike beside Trowa's in the little hall, and climbed the stairs to Trowa's apartment. It wasn't often that he caught his best friend on the hop; such opportunities were to be cherished and used to provide useful ammunition. He'd get a full day's teasing out of this one.

Tro was always nagging Duo about his little issues with punctuality – a way, _way_ overrated concept in Duo's book - and here they were on Sunday morning. Duo was precisely on time; actually, he was a few minutes late, but it wasn't his fault that he'd hit a couple of red lights, and where was Barton?

Not a hair of the man's shaggy head to be seen.

So the perfectly punctual Mr. Barton had slept in for once, Duo mused gleefully. Oh, he'd have such fun with this one. It almost made getting up at this obscene hour at a weekend worthwhile. _Almost_.

Well, he was going to pay for this. Duo slid the front door open silently and headed for Trowa's bedroom. It was a rare thing to catch his friend napping – in any sense – and he was looking forward to this.

'Yo, Trowa! Wakey wakey!' Duo flung the bedroom door open and goggled. There was a man in the bed, yes; curled rather adorably around one of the big throw pillows, but it wasn't Trowa.

'Whoa! You're not Tro!'

Duo had a fleeting glance of one shocked blue eye flying open, a gasp of horror and the blond head vanished under the duvet.

'Oopies! Sorry about that!' Duo backed out the room, regretting he hadn't got a proper look at Trowa's new squeeze. 'Really sorry. Didn't mean to disturb you like that. I'll be going now.'

Heh, no wonder Tro wasn't downstairs stock-taking, the way they'd planned. From the tiny glimpse Duo had had of the blond guy, he was just as pretty as an iced cupcake, and probably tasted every bit as delicious.

Which begged the question; where the hell _was_ Tro?

'Hey, Trowa! How come there's a hot blond guy in your bed?' Duo dashed through the rest of his friend's apartment – no sign – and ran up to the roof terrace. 'More important, how come you're not in it with him?'

Now, wouldn't _that_ have been a treat? To walk in on Mr. Barton being all lovey-dovey. Although Blondie would probably have died of embarrassment.

'Duo? What the hell are you doing here? It's Sunday morning.' Trowa looked up from nursing a mug of coffee. 'It's _early_ on Sunday morning.'

'It's inventory day, remember?' Duo sang out. '_Remember_? You, me, a shit load of books to count?'

'Oh. Yeah. I forgot.'

'I bet you did,' Duo beamed, and then took a closer look at his friend. Tro didn't look like someone who'd just won the blond jackpot. He looked tired – understandable enough – and sort of sad. There was also a bruise on his left cheekbone.

'What _happened_ last night?' Duo pulled out a chair for himself, and plonked down, scooping Trowa's white cat onto his lap. 'Who's the guy in your room? Did he take a swing at you or something?' He winked. 'Likes a bit of S/M, does he? It's always the innocent-looking ones you have to be careful with.'

'How do you know there's someone in my room?' Trowa demanded.

'Oh, yeah, about that. I sort of walked in on him. I mean, I didn't know you had anybody here; I just thought you'd overslept and I'd give you a little wake-up call, and I got Blondie instead. I was literally in your room for two seconds and I apologised and everything so everything's cool.'

'Cool? Yes, I'm sure he was fine waking up to find a total stranger leering at him.'

'I wasn't leering. Minorly ogling maybe, but he skipped under the covers the second he saw me. Now, come on. Tell me how he actually came to end up in your bed and all? And why's he all on his ownsome right now?'

'It's not like that.'

'Yeah. Right. You've got a Grade A hottie in your bed and you slept on the futon. I'll bet.'

'I did, actually.' He put down the coffee and sighed. 'It's a long story. I met him at Stardust last night and…'

Duo broke in, whistling. 'Seriously? You found him at Stardust? Wow! I've _got_ to start going back there; they've obviously started pulling in the cute guys.'

'Maxwell! Can you keep your mouth shut for two seconds?'

Duo nodded, miming pulling a zip across his lips and playing with Mallow's whiskers.

'Anyway, I was having a drink and he walked in, and, I don't know, he just looked totally lost and miserable.'

'First timer?' Duo asked and then slapped himself in the mouth. 'Sorry. But I get to ask relevant questions, right?'

Trowa nodded. 'That's what I thought at the start. Shit, Duo, he _so_ obviously didn't fit in and then he started drinking and I thought he was going to get himself into some serious trouble so I went over and….'

'And?' Duo prompted, since his friend had apparently lost his train of thought.

'We got talking. He was a bit hazy about what was wrong, something to do with his family, but we were getting on fine until he suddenly said it was late and that he had to go, and rushed off like an alarm had gone off in his head.'

'Uh huh. So how come he's currently in your bed?'

'I told you it was a long story. He went off and I got another drink and then Frank - you know him, right? – came in from a break and said he'd seen my friend taking off on foot down Katerina Street. After midnight.'

'Shit,' Duo breathed. 'So you went after him? That's how you get the bruise?'

Trowa nodded. 'He got himself cornered by one of those fucking gangs. Six of them, and he was actually giving a fairly good account of himself.' He smiled faintly. 'He's tougher than he looks. Anyway, I took care of the rest of them, and took him back here.'

'Let me guess; you tucked him into your bed with a nice cup of hot milk and a chaste goodnight kiss?'

'Something like that,' Trowa grinned ruefully. 'Cocoa, actually. Come on, what was I supposed to do? Hit on a guy who'd almost been beaten to a pulp?'

'Sir Galahad,' Duo teased. 'Tro, for a guy who makes his living selling kids' books, you're pretty clueless about how fairytales go. When the knight in shining armour rescues the beautiful princess – or prince in your case – from the evil trolls, he's supposed to get rewarded with all kinds of goodies.'

'He wasn't really in any shape for that sort of thing,' Trowa muttered, and took another gulp of coffee. 'You want a drink? I should go check on him.'

'No need,' Duo said softly. 'He's already here.'

The blond had already come up the stairs, silently enough that neither of them had heard him approach.

He looked even better when he wasn't covered by a duvet, Duo decided. Even if he was obviously embarrassed as hell by this situation and crimson to his ear tips. And those guys last night had had a serious go at him. There was a livid bruise covering the right side of his face, more bruising and a gash on his left arm, and he was walking just a bit stiffly. In other circumstances, Duo might have teased just a little bit about that. Not now, though.

'Fuck.' Duo's eyes swivelled back to Trowa. 'I seriously hope you took care of the guys who did this.'

Trowa nodded. 'Between the two of us, I think we did, yes.'

That was pretty smooth, Duo thought. Not letting Blondie feel like he'd been some damsel in distress or something like that.

Those very pretty blue eyes fastened on Trowa. 'Thank you for helping me last night. I have to go now.'

'No, you don't.' Trowa could move damn fast when he wanted; Duo was pretty much used to it by now. Blondie's eyes widened even more as Trowa suddenly appeared at his side. 'At least, stay for breakfast and then I'll drive you home. OK?'

He was using the voice he normally reserved for shy kids or mistreated animals, but that didn't generally come out for adults.

Wow.

He really had it bad.

Blondie was responding, just as kids and animals always did; the way Duo had once; a few weeks after the first time they'd met. Weird; nearly parallel cases but not quite. Trowa had helped Duo out in a pretty nasty situation, once; obviously, he'd have been able to handle it himself, but it had been nice to have someone on his side for once, and then taken him home.

Not quite parallel though. Duo had been to one to sleep on the futon. He'd never made it into Tro's bed. He'd got the hot cocoa, all right, but never any goodnight kisses, chaste or otherwise.

Trowa had never, once, looked at him like that.

And Duo had certainly never looked at Tro the way Blondie currently was. Well, not when anyone was watching him. Damn, but he was totally adorable. If he'd looked anything like this vulnerable in the club, it was no wonder that Trowa had jumped in and done his Sir Galahad act. Stardust was an OK place, but all gay clubs attracted the occasional predator on the lookout for cute, innocent-looking guys like that.

Super cute, Duo revised his estimate upwards, watching the guy smile for the first time, and then wince. He'd be a knockout without the injuries and wearing some proper clothes, instead of the baggy t-shirt and sweats he'd presumably borrowed from Tro.

A couple of seconds ago, he'd been on the verge of bolting down the stairs, but he was clearly falling under Trowa's spell, and Tro was settling him in a chair, all concerned and fussing over him. Then he was reaching up to touch the bruise on Tro's cheek, and Tro was letting him.

Duo saw his best friend going all mushy over animals and small children on a fairly regular basis, but he tended to be a lot more reserved around adults. This one had really got through all his defences. No wonder; a sweet, shy guy who'd needed to be rescued would have pushed all of Tro's buttons.

'Duo,' Trowa said suddenly, apparently realising there was a third person present. 'This is Cat. Cat, meet my best friend, Duo.'

'How do you do?'

Duo shook the guy's hand, trying not to smile at the formality. Trowa would probably kill him if he laughed. 'Nice to meet you. I'm sorry about bursting in on you like that before.'

Cat – weird name; Duo squelched a desire to ask him if he purred when stroked – managed another faint smile.

'It's all right.' He twisted around in his chair to look up at Trowa. 'You've been amazingly kind to me, but I really should be going.'

'Cat.' Trowa bent down and squeezed his new squeeze's hand. 'It's seven in the morning. You can't possibly have to be anywhere this early. 'I'm going to make you breakfast and then put a bit more ointment on your cuts, and then I'll take you wherever you want to go. Deal?'

'Deal,' Cat echoed softly. Oof, he was really skyrocketing up the adorable scale; dimples and blushes and those little sidelong glances at Tro through those long lashes.

Shit. Cat was way, way too attractive not to have a boyfriend of his own in the background. Duo wasn't sure if Trowa had figured that out yet. Probably not, not given the way he was looking at the little blond. And Cat was looking back at him as if Tro were the Messiah and Santa Claus and the Tooth fairy all rolled into one.

Well, maybe he _was_, magically, single. Maybe. Something they needed to find out ASAP.

'I really need to use a telephone though. May I please borrow yours?'

Trowa nodded. 'Cordless 'phone in the kitchen. You can take it into the bedroom if you need some privacy?'

The three of them went downstairs together, and Trowa waited until the blond, 'phone in hand, had vanished into the bedroom and closed the door behind him before turning to Duo, one eyebrow raised. 'Well?'

'Well,' Duo echoed, switching on the kettle. 'He's cute.'

'That's it?' Trowa said incredulously. 'That's all I get?'

Duo shook his head. 'Nope. But you're not gonna like the rest of it.'

Trowa took a loaf out of the breadbin and began to hack at it. '_What_?'

'You're a smart guy. You can work it out just as well as me. Seriously, how likely is it that someone like him is single? How often do you get guys like that trawling around a pick up joint all alone on a Saturday night? I'm guessing he had a fight with his partner, ran out on him in a snit, and well, he seemed pretty keen to use your 'phone, didn't he? You don't want to get involved in something like that. Tro, you don't know anything about him, do you? I think maybe you need to sit him down and ask him a few questions.'

'Yeah.' Trowa said it heavily. 'He's too good to be true, isn't he? Stupid me, right. Always falling for the unattainable ones.'


	5. Dreams and Fantasies

Disclaimer – the usual. Not mine.

Note – many thanks to KS for editing and to everyone who has been reading and reviewing.

**Dreams and Fantasies:**

There had been a few moments before he'd woken up properly when he thought it was all a bizarre dream.

Of _course_, none of those things had actually happened.

He'd never met Trowa; the man had been a figment of his imagination. A perfect figment; well, except for the parts where he'd been every bit as bossy as Iria, or all the other people who saw their missions in life to organising Quatre Raberba Winner's.

Then he'd opened his eyes to find he was in a strange bed, with a total stranger grinning at him.

Oh, god. It had all been real.

All of it. Of course it had been. He'd obviously slept at some point. He'd been up twice to the bathroom, throwing up as he thought about what had almost happened. The second time, Trowa had been there, sponging his face and finding him a toothbrush to rinse the taste of vomit out of his mouth.

His last memory, before he'd somehow fallen asleep, was of Trowa sitting in an armchair by the bed, and talking to him.

The other man had given him an apology and vanished, shouting for Trowa. It had been mortifying. He'd wanted nothing, nothing, so much as just to sneak off and take his chances on the streets.

He just couldn't do it, though. Not after Trowa had been so nice to him. He couldn't just walk out.

There was also the small matter of what to wear. He could probably get away with wearing the t-shirt and sweat pants Trowa had lent him to sleep in, but he'd caused the man enough trouble without stealing his clothes. And he certainly couldn't wear that clubbing outfit in broad daylight.

He couldn't imagine, now, what had possessed him to wear it at night. What on Earth had he been thinking?

Quatre forced himself to take a deep breath. And another. OK. He could do this. It wasn't even seven o'clock yet; the interview wasn't until ten. He could call Rashid, arrange for his chief bodyguard to collect him and whisk him back to the hotel. Rashid would lecture him all the way, but he almost certainly wouldn't tell Iria.

He could leave straightaway. That was the plan.

He'd followed the voices and found Trowa and the long-haired stranger sitting on a small roof terrace and Trowa had somehow persuaded him to sit down and agree to stay for breakfast.

That couldn't take long, surely. He still had a good three hours in hand. He could allow himself just a little more time in Trowa's company. It would have been so much better if Duo had taken himself off. He seemed friendly enough, but he kept darting odd little glances at Quatre, trying to figure him out.

In the end, he asked Trowa if he could borrow his telephone and hid back in the bedroom. It was so unfair. All he wanted was to be able to talk to Trowa for a little while, and he couldn't with Duo around. There was no point staying at this rate.

He might as well just call Rashid and go back to the real world.

'Rashid, it's Quatre.'

'Master Quatre!' Quatre winced at the bellow that came down the 'phone and held it a few inches away from his ear. 'Where are you? Miss Iria is out of her mind worrying about you. We all are. We've been searching for you all night and…'

'Iria knows?' Quatre asked faintly. '_How_?'

Rashid sighed. 'She tried calling you late last night. When you didn't answer your telephone, she became concerned, and we checked your room. She's been out of her mind with worry; we all have. I tried calling Master Heero last night to see if he knew anything and..'

'What? You called Heero?'

Damn, damn, damn. Heero would murder him for being so stupid.

'Rashid, please tell my sister I'm fine, but I do need a ride home. Can you collect me? I'm on Victoria Street. You should be able to trace this number; it's a land line.'

'We're on our way,' the big man rumbled.

'Not yet. Please. Give me an hour.'

An hour. That was the most he could hope for realistically. It was lucky they hadn't already called in the police or the army or the L4 ambassador.

Quatre slammed the 'phone down on Rashid's protests. Damn. He couldn't even take an evening off without all this drama.

Heero answered his 'phone on the first ring.

'Are you all right? Where _are_ you?'

'I'm fine. Listen.'

He told Heero exactly what had happened, with many interruptions for his friend's horrified exclamations that he'd gone out, alone, at night, in a strange city, without telling anyone what his plans were.

'I didn't _have_ plans,' he defended himself, knowing Heero wouldn't understand that. 'That's the point. I just needed to get away. Just for a few hours, I needed to be…not myself. Does that make any sense?'

'Hn.' Heero sounded grudgingly sympathetic. 'Perhaps. But going out alone was stupid. Anything could have happened to you. So where did you go?'

'A club.' Quatre pleated the hem of his over-large t-shirt. He needed something to occupy his spare hand and he wasn't wearing a tie to fiddle with. 'And, yes, before you can say it, I do know it was crazy, but I just had to get away for a little while. I just planned to stay out for a couple of hours and then go straight back to the hotel. I never meant for anyone to know I'd gone out.'

'What went wrong? 'Heero asked flatly.

'I was waiting for a taxi and I found out that someone had stolen my wallet. I started to walk back, and well, I got into a bit of trouble.' Heero let him describe the whole thing, right out to where Trowa had come to rescue him and taken him home, before interrupting.

'The incident was clearly a set up. He arranged it all, so he could help you. We don't know what he's after. You need to get out of there. Now. Do you hear me?'

'Heero, it wasn't like that! I swear. He's really nice; he helped me. There's no way he could have set all that up; we'd only just met and he wouldn't have had time.'

'He could have been following you ever since you arrived in Sanque. Quatre, I'm serious.

You need to call Rashid and leave. Understood?'

'No! Heero, you're just being paranoid. Trowa's lovely, and I trust him.'

Heero snorted. 'You're a terrible judge of character. Or do I need to remind you that your ex-boyfriend is trying to blackmail you?'

'I made one mistake when I was eighteen! Five years ago! You're just suffering from total paranoia, and you're wrong. What do you think; that he's trying to abduct me or something? He's just let me use his 'phone so I hardly think he's planning to imprison me.'

'You have no idea what he wants,' Heero said bluntly.

'Maybe he just likes me. Maybe he actually wanted to spend time with me. Is that so impossible to believe?'

'Of course not,' Heero said quietly. 'But most people look at you and see the heir to Winner Enterprises. I'm sorry but that's the way it is. You need to be careful and you're far too trusting. Now, can you please just call Rashid and get out of there?'

'I already did. So you don't have to worry; I'll be back at hotel in the next hour and then I can spend the day apologising for worrying everyone and grovelling to my sister.'

'Quatre.' Heero's voice was surprisingly gentle. 'When are you ever going to stop falling over yourself to please everyone in the universe?'

'I don't know. I don't think I'd know how to.' He sighed, flopping down on the mattress. 'Heero, I don't think I can go through with this.'

'What _this_ exactly?' Heero's voice was dagger-sharpt.

'Everything. I don't want to marry a girl I don't even know and who doesn't want to be with me just because my family thinks I should. I just …..is it so wrong to want to be happy? To do what I want for once in my life?'

'What do you want?'

That was Heero; straight to the direct question.

'I don't know. Maybe the chance to _not_ know, and to find out for myself. To make my own decisions' He rubbed his eyes. 'I don't _know_. I think I need some time to myself. Even just a couple of days. Iria is hung up on me marrying Relena because she thinks Sanque will have a huge problem doing business with a corporation whose CEO is gay and I don't think that's true. This isn't L4; they don't care about that sort of thing.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'Go home,' Quatre said quietly. 'Well, not home, really. The hotel we're staying. I don't exactly have anywhere else to go. I need to talk to Iria and my father. I'm supposed to be going to stay with old friends of his this afternoon. They have an estate in the county and Iria thinks it will keep me out of trouble. I didn't want to go, but it might be a good chance just to spend some time alone and decide what happens next.'

Heero said something that was lost in a burst of static.

'I'm sorry. The reception's not very good. I don't know if it's this line or yours.'

'Mine, probably. I shouldn't really be using my 'phone on a shuttle.'

'You're on _a shuttle_? Where are you going?'

'Winner.' Heero accompanied the word with a heavy sigh. 'Your sister called me at 2 am to say you'd apparently vanished. What did you expect me to do; just sit around twiddling my thumbs. I was worried about you, damnit. You've been miserable for weeks, I know what your sisters are trying to pressure you into doing….I was scared you might have done something stupid.'

'No!' Quatre breathed. 'Heero, I'd never do something like that.' He stopped short. He wouldn't; he _wouldn't_, but there had been a moment the previous night, looking over the balcony, when he'd thought how easy it would be just to fall, to fall into the stars. 'I wouldn't,' he repeated, trying to sound definite.

'You'd better not,' Heero said gruffly. 'Now, where exactly are you right now?'

'Um, I'm not exactly sure. It was late when we got here last night and I wasn't really paying attention. It's an apartment over a shop on Victoria Crescent. I'll be back at the Sanque Sheraton by the time you arrive though.' Quatre shook his head. 'I still can't believe you're on your way here. You don't have to go straight back tonight, do you?'

'I can stay for a few days.' His friend's tone mellowed a little. 'If you go to stay with these people in the country, I could maybe stay in a hotel nearby and we could spend some time together.'

'_Really_? But you never take holidays!'

'Look who's talking,' Heero scoffed. 'Quatre, I should be landing around seven pm, your time. I'll see you then.'

'See you then. And thank you for this.'

'Don't go all sentimental on me. Now, get back to the hotel and tell Iria what you've just told me.'

'Yes, sir.' Quatre dialled off and lay back on the bed. Tell Iria. Easier said than done. And she wasn't going to be in the most receptive of moods anyway, given his disappearing act. Maybe he could wait until Heero arrived, and at least have some moral support.

He could do this. He'd call Rashid and face Iria and get this interview over with, and then escape for a few days to decide what he wanted to do with his life. It was rather appealing actually; the prospect of spending a few days in the country, even if Iria and his assistants made sure he was loaded down with work to keep him busy.

He stretched, carefully, ticking off the various aches and pains as they registered. He wasn't used to physical pain; he'd fallen off his pony a couple of times when he'd been learning to ride, and Heero had given him bruises in fencing practice, but no one had ever deliberately tried to hurt him.

It was still a little hard to take in that total strangers had assaulted him like that; had tried very hard to cause damage. Would very likely have done more, if Trowa hadn't turned up.

Quatre fingered his cheek tentatively; it hurt. Oh, God. If it hurt that much, would there be a mark? Trowa didn't have any visible mirrors in his bedroom, but there was one behind his wardrobe door.

Oh, _God_.

Staring, appalled, at his face, Quatre sank down on to the floor. If anyone saw him like this….He couldn't possibly do any sort of interview. He couldn't let Iria see him. He certainly couldn't stay with the Noventas, who'd mention it to his father.

'Cat?' Trowa called softly, following it up with a light tap to the door. 'Is everything OK?'

'Fine.' Quatre bit his lip, rubbing his knuckles across his eyes, praying that Trowa wouldn't come in and see him like this.

He did, crossing the room in a few long strides and taking Quatre in his arms. It just felt so good to be gathered up like that.

'Hey. Shush. It's OK.'

'It's not OK.' Quatre snapped suddenly, hating himself and utterly powerless to stop. '_Look_ at me! I look like I lost a fight with a Tyrannosaurus Rex. I can't go out looking like this. I'm supposed to be going to stay with friends of my father, and I can't let them see me covered in bruises. And I my wallet was stolen so I've even lost the card you gave me so I'll never be able to find you again, and I don't even know your exact address.'

He stopped abruptly, partly because he was out of breath, partly because Trowa's hand was gently rubbing his back. It was hard to scream at someone when they were touching you like you were something precious, to be cherished.

No one had done that for so long.

'I'm sorry, Trowa. None of this is your fault. You're the last person I should be taking it out on.'

'It's OK. Listen, if you're so worried about losing my card, I'll give you another one. I can give you a dozen. But you know where I live now anyway, so maybe you don't need it.'

Quatre managed a faint smile at that; he simply couldn't help it.

'That's better. Here you go.' The hand that wasn't rubbing his back produced a wallet and held out a couple of small pieces of stiff card. 'This is where I live.'

'Wish Upon a Star,' Quatre read the Gothic letters slowly, eyes flying to Trowa's face.

The other man grinned at him. 'Yeah. It's a kids' bookshop. I can't remember if I told you that last night.'

'It's a great name. Truly.' There were stars all over the card, trailing light the way they did in cartoons. Quatre put it very carefully in his pocket. He wasn't going to lose this one.

'Listen, Cat. You had a seriously rough time last night, but you're OK now.' Trowa's hand very gently touched his face. 'These bruises will clear up in a couple of days. You can call these people and tell them you can you'll be arriving a few days later than planned. I'm sure you can think of a good excuse. You're more than welcome to stay here if you like. As for money, I can lend you some 'til you can get a replacement credit card or a money transfer from home or whatever. Will that do?'

'Why?' Quatre pulled away abruptly, all of Heero's warnings clanging in his head. 'Why are you being so nice to me?'

'You're in trouble; why wouldn't I help you?' The green eyes darkened suddenly. 'You think I'm after something in return; is that it?'

'Most people I know would be.'

'Then maybe you need to get to know some other people.' Trowa stood, raking his hair back from his face with one hand. 'If you don't want to stay here, that's fine. I can drive you wherever you want. Your decision.'

'I would like to stay with you. I just don't want to put you to any trouble.'

This was – incredibly stupid. Quatre knew that as soon as he said it. He couldn't just do something like this. He couldn't just go and stay with a total stranger for an indefinite period of time and pretend to be a normal person who didn't have responsibilities.

He'd said it though. He'd accepted Trowa's invitation.

'You're not that much trouble.' Trowa ruffled his hair, and plonked down on the floor beside him. 'Quatre, if you don't mind, there's one thing we need to talk about.'

Swallowing, Quatre nodded. God, he'd been stupid. Heero had been right. Of course, it was ridiculous to have imagined he could get away with this. The Sanque media had been covering the proposed treaty exhaustively for weeks; absurd not to imagine that one of them would have printed a picture of the Winner heir apparent.

Of course Trowa knew who he was. He'd known from the start. And perhaps Heero had even been right about it all being a set up. It wasn't like he hadn't spent his whole life being besieged by people who wanted to get close to his family, and their money. Especially their money.

'What do you want? How much?'

'How much what?' Trowa tossed his hair back, looking genuinely bewildered. 'I just wanted to know if you've got a boyfriend.'

It was Quatre's turn to blink. 'That's what you wanted to ask me? Why?'

'Quatre,' Trowa's voice lingered over the syllables of his name, his real name. 'Are you always this slow early in the morning? Or did you get knocked on the head last night?' He chuckled, one finger drawing a slow caress over Quatre's uninjured cheek. 'You're cute when you blush like that. So……boyfriend or no boyfriend?'

'No boyfriend,' Quatre whispered.

It was perfectly true. He didn't have anyone. Except, maybe for a couple of days, he could let himself live a fantasy life where he actually did.

'Me neither.' Trowa's voice was equally low, as if they were sharing secrets, as if someone might overhear them. 'Fancy that.'


	6. Bed and Breakfast

Disclaimer: Not mine.

Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been kind enough to comment, and to Kaeru Shisho, who keeps excellent track of what my characters are – or aren't – wearing.

**Bed and Breakfast:**

'Me neither.' Trowa's voice was equally low, as if they were sharing secrets, as if someone might overhear them. 'Fancy that.'

'I fancy you,' Quatre whispered. There was a whole refrain of voices in his head; Heero, Rashid, Iria, the rest of his family, all clamouring that this was a bad idea.

It wasn't _fair_; other people got to have just one voice as their conscience. Quatre Raberba Winner had a Greek chorus.

Why shouldn't he, for once in his life, get to do something that would make him happy; something a little bit selfish? He liked Trowa and Trowa seemed to like him. Was it so very terrible to want to keep that feeling for longer?

'Good. Can I ask you another question? Can I do this without hurting you?' Trowa slid one arm around his shoulder, pulling him closer.

'Yes.'

'And this?' Trowa's lips moved against his very gently, tongue darting out to lick the uninjured corner.

'That doesn't hurt.' Of course it didn't. It couldn't possibly hurt; that gentle movement of Trowa's mouth on his. Quatre leaned into the kiss, gasping into Trowa's mouth as the man slipped one hand under his t-shirt, and trailed a caress along his bare stomach.

'Sorry. Sorry. I forgot you must be sore there.'

'No, you didn't hurt me. This is all just a little ….'

'Too fast?' Trowa said shrewdly. 'No, I'm sorry. Let's try this instead. We can get comfortable and talk a little bit. OK?'

'OK.' Quatre let Trowa take his hand, and settle them both on the bed; Trowa leaning against the pillows and Quatre snuggled against him.

It was too fast. Of course it was. It had been one thing to flirt, and make out a little, in a crowded club, with plenty of other people around. It was quite another to do it in the privacy of someone's bedroom.

And Trowa's idea of getting comfortable had involved off taking off his t-shirt and then wrapping both arms around his companion.

'Is this all right?'

'It's lovely.'

'Mmm. I told you, last night, in the club, that I liked holding you. I meant it.' His lips danced over Quatre's face. 'It's hard to believe that someone like you is single.'

'It's true.' Quatre gazed imploringly into the other man's eyes. At least that was one thing he didn't have to lie about.

'I wasn't doubting you. I'm just surprised that the rest of the world seems to be blind.'

'I've had one proper relationship, when I was eighteen.' Quatre turned onto his stomach, carefully and propped his chin on Trowa's shoulder. 'I spent three months on Earth, at university in Vancouver.'

'Canada?' Trowa asked. 'I've always wanted to go there. Flights from Sanque cost a fortune, though. Did you like it?'

'Oh, yes. Very much.' He bit his lip, considering. 'I actually won a Mathematics Award at school; the prize was a semester at a university on Earth.'

There, that was true enough. He'd accepted the award, under the proud gaze of his father and Iria and some of his other sisters, but the financial prize had gone to another student.

'Anyway, I met Jordan on my first day and we hit it off straightaway. After I went back home, we tried to do the long distance thing, but it was difficult and then he met someone else and that was the end of that.'

He could hear the little undertone of bitterness in his own voice. Five years on, he could tell it would never have worked. Quatre Winner, on L4, would never be permitted to have a homosexual relationship, but the idealistic, idiotic teenager he'd been then hadn't known very much about the reality of his world.

'Otherwise, it's rather difficult, on L4. There are places, if you know where to look, where you can go for sex, but that's pretty much it.'

'So I hear. That can't be easy.'

Quatre shivered as Trowa ghosted kisses along his forehead. It wasn't just the physical intimacy; it was the understanding and affection in his voice. 'It's so long since I've been with someone like this. Just ….being held.'

'That's a terrible shame,' Trowa said softly. 'Cat, at the club last night, were you looking to hook up with someone?'

'No!' Quatre shook his head. 'Not really. All I really wanted was to get away for an hour or so. Listen to music and have a drink. Would it matter to you? If I'd only gone there looking for sex?'

'I didn't mean it like that.' Trowa was using _that_ voice again, the one that somehow wrapped cashmere-soft concern around his nerves. 'I was just wondering what you were doing in a club that's a notorious pick-up joint if that wasn't what you were after. ' He tugged Quatre into his arms, careful not to touch any bruised areas.

'You looked so sad, the first time I saw you. Propping up the bar, and looking into your glass like it was a crystal ball.'

'Was I?' Quatre couldn't really remember anything about the club until he'd met Trowa; just vague impressions of music and that awful beer he'd been drinking.

He'd eaten dinner alone at a small seafood restaurant recommended by Brian, and then gone shopping for some new clothes. Buoyed up by the glass of wine he'd had with his meal, and by the blatant flattery of the sales assistants, he'd bought the sort of clothes that Quatre Winner very definitely did _not_ wear.

'I had a row with my sister last night. I told you that, didn't I? I'm hopeless at standing up for myself and afterwards I was upset and I just wanted to get out for a while.'

'What was the argument about?'

'Just family things,' Quatre said evasively. 'It's complicated.'

Trowa nodded. 'Was she the person you were in such a rush to call when you woke up then?'

'One of them.' Quatre hesitated, weaving the fingers of his right hand with Trowa's.

He was going to have to call Iria at some point and tell her that his plans had changed. And Heero. Who was on his way to Sanque and, bless his paranoid heart, would be less than ecstatic to find his friend had virtually moved in with a man he'd just met. In Heero's mind, strangers were just enemies who hadn't yet declared themselves to be hostile.

'The other was my friend, Heero. He's actually visiting Sanque himself this week, so I'm sure you'll meet him.' He squeezed Trowa's fingers. 'He tends to be very protective, so he'll probably interrogate you as to your intentions towards me.'

'He sounds like a good friend to have.' Trowa was smiling, obviously envisaging a cosy chat. Oh dear. Still, he couldn't be expected to know that Heero's idea of an interrogation was one that would be banned by most civilised countries.

'Just as a matter of interest, what _are_ your intentions?' Quatre wondered aloud, trying to sound oh-so-casual. It hadn't registered at first, but if Stardust was the notorious place Trowa claimed it was, then he'd presumably gone there for his own reasons. Was that all he was looking for; sex?

'My intentions?' Trowa's eyes were a gleaming emerald-green, glimmering with mischief. 'My lovely Cat, do you really have to ask? We're in bed together; I believe we are cuddling, and I've been very determinedly trying to find out whether you're available or not. Can't you work it out for yourself, or do you need me to draw you a diagram? Because I can do that, if you like.'

'I think I can work it out.' Quatre sat up abruptly. 'I'm sorry. I apparently gave you the wrong idea about what I want. I suppose it was my own fault, being alone in a club with that sort of a reputation. So stupid of me, not to realise what sort of signals I was giving out.'

'Come back here.' Quatre found himself sprawled over Trowa's chest, green eyes holding his. 'I think we need to start this particular conversation over again. I would love to have sex with you, yes. But I'm not going to rush you into anything you're not happy with. I also want to get to know you better, not just physically but I want to know about your taste in food, and your favourite books, and what sort of music you like. And I would really, really love to try to stop you looking as sad as you were last night. You have the most beautiful smile, and I don't think you get to use it as often as you should. I'd like to make you smile more often. Do you think that might satisfy your friend Heero?'

'Satisfying Heero doesn't matter.' The blond gave a shaky little laugh. 'I'm satisfied.'

'Glad to hear it.' Trowa's voice deepened a little. 'So you're not just with me for my body, right? Can I ask what you're looking for?'

Well, that was the big question, wasn't it? Quatre, who knew all about delaying tactics and distractions in business, was clever enough to adapt them to other areas of endeavour. Dipping his head to Trowa's chest, he flicked his tongue around one nipple, giving himself time to think.

'Well, your body's a part of it,' he said huskily. 'But I'd really like to know all the things you said too, about you. I'd like to know whether we can be friends before we try anything more.'

'If you keep doing that, I might decide it's not necessary. I already have plenty of friends.'

'You want me to stop, then?' Quatre bit down, very gently, wondering if Trowa's self control was any better than his. Part of him hoped not. The man was perfect. And kind and funny and affectionate.

He'd been honest, too, about what he wanted. Well, Quatre had been too, up to a point. There were just a few things he'd left out. But everything he'd actually told Trowa had been true.

'I don't think that _want_ is the appropriate word, actually.' There was a moment when he was lost, captivated in Trowa's smile, and then he was flat on his back with the other man leaning over him. He was strong then, and fast. Quatre had known that; it should have been a little intimidating. With Trowa, it wasn't, somehow.

'Two choices, Cat. Either we get up now and I make you breakfast, or … we skip a few steps ahead. Your call.'

_Your call. _Someone had actually given him the choice to make a decision on his own. That was a novelty in itself. In the end, his stomach decided, producing a rather loud and embarrassing rumble.

Trowa just laughed, getting off the bed and pulling Quatre after him. 'OK. I get it. You need to be fed.'

Quatre grinned. 'I'd love that. I'm starving!'

Preparing breakfast turned out to be a rather awkward affair. Quatre tried to help, got under Trowa's feet and was told it would be quicker if he just sat down and let his host get on with it. Quatre obeyed, sipping a glass of juice and rather enjoying watching Trowa move around in his own space. Trowa was barefoot, and hadn't bothered to put his shirt back on; he'd certainly never had a half-naked man cook him breakfast before.

He didn't get to be in a kitchen very often either, except when he stayed with Heero. It was nice.

He was trying to gauge Trowa's mood, which had definitely changed since they'd left the bedroom. Was he annoyed Quatre hadn't wanted sex; irritated at his guest's teasing; or just preferred to be quiet while cooking?

'Trowa,' he ventured. 'I'm sorry if you thought I was teasing you. I'm not very consistent, am I?'

'What? Quatre, I'm not mad with you.' The other man looked up from stirring a pot of scrambled eggs and smiled. 'Here's one cultural difference between Sanque and L4; it's perfectly acceptable for hot blond guys to tease a little bit. It's encouraged, even.'

He tipped the eggs onto two plates and Quatre's mouth started to water.

'It's not that. I don't even know what you're doing in Sanque, how long you'll be staying here.' He handed Quatre the plate of toast. 'I don't know anything about you.'

'Like I told you, I'm here to visit some old friends of my father. He's very ill, and Father is an invalid; he couldn't make the journey from L4, so he asked me to go in his place. I don't have any definite plans for how long I'll be here. A week, maybe. Although I can't pay a visit looking like this. Are you sure you don't mind me staying here for a few days?'

'I already invited you.' Trowa said quietly. 'A few days isn't very long, though. What happens after that?'

'I don't know.' Quatre buttered a piece of toast, taking time to spread it evenly. 'Honestly. I'm not very happy at home, but my father needs me. I can't just take off, however much I want to. Trowa, what's happening with us? I'm not just imagining it, am I?'

'No. Definitely not.' One long finger touched Quatre's forehead gently. 'You're going to have wrinkles before you're thirty if you keep frowning like that. Maybe we should just see how things go? We might hate the sight of each other by this evening, or realise we both have the most obnoxious habits.'

'I grind my teeth when I'm sleeping. My dentist is always complaining about it.'

'Then maybe I'll never let you sleep. Elimination of problem. I tend to take home stray or injured animals all the time. People too, sometimes.'

'I like animals. And I can't really complain about the people you rescue, since I'm one of them, can I?' Quatre smiled as Trowa leaned over and kissed the tip of his nose. 'I don't think I'm going to hate the sight of you by this evening.'

He wrapped both arms around Trowa's waist and clambered into the other man's lap.

'My lap-Cat,' Trowa chuckled. 'Listen, I don't open the shop 'til two on Sundays and I can always ask Duo to help out, so I could take the day off. If you want, I can drive you to your hotel to collect your stuff. Then we'd have the whole day to play around with.'

A whole day to fill, Quatre thought wistfully, trying to remember the last time he'd had so much time to himself. Iria and his assistant between them liked to organise his life into thirty minute segments. Most days, he counted himself lucky to have enough time for a shower, and a few daydreams.

'I'd rather stay here.' Quatre nuzzled against Trowa's neck.

'Sure. How d'you spend normally spend Sundays at home.'

'Work. Mostly. I sometimes meet my friend Heero but he's a workaholic as well, so we probably don't see each other as often as we should.'

'You don't really strike me as the work-obsessed type,' Trowa remarked.

'I'm probably not, if I'm left to myself. I quite like being lazy. The thing is, my father had a stroke a few months after my nineteenth birthday, and I had to start work straightaway.'

Trowa made a sympathetic little noise in his throat. 'That's rough. So you had to give up university? Couldn't your folks have afforded a manager to run things while you finished your studies?'

'Um, it wasn't really an option. We've always been a family business; nobody wanted an outsider coming in and taking over. My older sister's been in charge for the past few years, and I've been working with her and studying part time. I got my Masters last year, so my father wants me to take over soon. On L4, boys are supposed to inherit. I think it's stupid but my family's very traditional.'

'Poor Cat,' Trowa said softly. 'Your family situation sounds like my friend Wufei's. His family's from L5 originally; they immigrated to Sanque a few decades ago and started off with one little corner shop and now they've built up a whole chain and a few restaurants. There was war when Wufei said he wasn't interested in working in any of them, but his parents came 'round eventually.'

'He's lucky then.'

'Yeah.' Trowa's arms tightened around him. 'So you never really had a choice with what you wanted to do? What did you study anyway? Business?'

'Accountancy.' He tucked his head into the crook of Trowa's warm, bare shoulder. 'I love working with numbers so it wasn't that bad. And I took some music courses as well, when I had time.'

'What do you play?'

'Classical violin, mainly, and I can play the guitar. I love South American music.' He shrugged. 'It's awful. I can't even remember the last time I played. I never seem to have a minute to myself back home. You have no idea what a treat to laze around like this.'

'My pleasure.' Trowa kissed him gently on the lips. 'What is it, then? This family business of yours?'

'Construction.' True. Mostly; even if it was satellites rather than buildings.

Trowa grinned at him. 'Seriously? So you hang around muddy building sites? I can't imagine that.'

'I mostly stay in the office but I do sometimes.' He had, once or twice, visited a major WEI building project, if his press office thought it would make a good photo opportunity. Once he'd even been given a trowel to hold and asked to put a brick in place. They'd probably had to redo it after he'd gone but the photo had been on the front page of all the major papers the next day.

'Mmm. That's kind of sexy; you in a hard hat, giving orders to all these big, brawny labourers.'

Quatre burst out laughing.' Well, I do have a few hard hats.' He had a whole row of them, in fact, on a shelf in his office. It was one of the Winner traditions; once a project was completed, the labour crew presented one of their hard hats to the main office. 'They're not remotely sexy, though.'

'Yeah, they are,' Trowa purred. 'If you're not wearing anything else. OK, since you're enjoying all this lazing around, how would you fancy us having a totally lazy day today? I'll show you the shop, we can go for a walk to the park, get the papers and something for lunch, and spend the rest of the day up on the roof. Maybe have a nap later?'

'That sounds like the most perfect day I could ever imagine,' Quatre told him sincerely, feeling a little bubble of excitement growing inside. He was really doing this! Surely, he deserved one day off from his whole life? Just one day to pretend he had a normal life. 'I'll need to borrow something to wear, though, if we're going out.'

Trowa pulled a face. 'Damn. I was hoping to convince you to walk around naked. I'll find you another t-shirt, and you could probably fit into a pair of Duo's jeans. He usually leaves a few things lying around when he stays over.'

'Ah.' There were icicles suddenly slithering in his veins. 'I hadn't realised that you and Duo were like that.'

'We're not.' Trowa snaked an arm around his waist, stopping him jerking away. 'We never have been. But we stay open late a couple of nights a week; sometimes Duo stays back to have dinner and watch a movie or something and it's handier for him to sleep here than cycle home. He just keeps some stuff in a closet. OK?'

'OK. Sorry. But you two are obviously close friends, and it's a little hard for me to believe that someone as amazing as you doesn't have someone.'

'I do now, don't I?'

Quatre managed a faint smile. It wasn't as if he'd told Trowa everything about himself; he didn't have any right to complain about the other man's unwillingness to share confidences with someone he'd just met. But he had been honest about Jordan; it would have been nice if Trowa had shared even a little of his own history.

'Quatre, I'm not that amazing.' He sighed, picking up one of Quatre's hands and pressing his lips to the palm. 'The last person I was serious about hurt me. Rather a lot. That was a couple of years ago, and there's been no one since then. No one remotely serious.' His tongue sneaked out, tickling slightly. 'Not until last night.'


	7. A Sunday Treat

Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been reviewing.

**A Sunday Treat:**

Quatre replaced Trowa's phone carefully, noting that his hands were shaking, just a little, and headed back into the living room.

Telling Heero his new plans had been difficult enough; he had no doubt that his friend would storm into the bookshop and try to drag him out by force. Still, even Heero Yuy couldn't get from L4 to Earth before the evening. That gave him a whole day with Trowa.

Talking to Iria had been apocalyptically bad. His sister wasn't used to being defied by anyone, certainly not by her biddable baby brother.

Too bad.

He was resolutely not going to think about any of that. He was going to give himself this one day in his new friend's company as a gift, and if Iria didn't like it, then….too bad.

'You OK?' Trowa glanced up from the book he was reading and let out a long wolf whistle. 'Nice. Duo's clothes suit you.'

Quatre blushed slightly, trying to hug the hem of his t-shirt down a little. He and Duo wore the same size, but Duo clearly liked his clothes to be a lot more fitted than Quatre was comfortable with. 'Are you ready to go?'

'Just a minute.' The book was put aside, and Trowa sauntered over, taking Quatre's mouth in a long, leisurely kiss. 'There. Now we can go.'

Quatre goggled up at him. He wasn't really used to people just… kissing him like that, as if they had a perfect right to do so. No one ever treated him like that. But it had felt so good, and one of Trowa's hands was perched on his right hip and the other was roaming over his ass and Duo's jeans were ridiculously tight, really. 'You kissed me.'

'You noticed.' Trowa laughed down at him and Quatre wished, for the millionth time, that he was taller. Although it was rather nice having to tilt his face to look up at the other man….'You're very perceptive. Didn't you like it?'

'Yes.' Oh, why even bother pretending to be offended? He'd liked it very much; it was just so different from the soft, gentle kisses Trowa had given him in that club, and Trowa had apparently reverted to the bossy, in-charge person he'd been when they first met.

'Good. I'm planning to do that a lot.' Looking at Trowa's lips move, remembering just how they'd felt on his, Quatre let his eyes close, lifting his face for another kiss.

Instead, Trowa let him go, gave him a light slap on the bottom, and laughed at the look on Quatre's face. 'You're the one who wanted to go out. Now, come on. We'll go to the bakery before all the good stuff is gone, and then I'll show you my shop.' He gave Quatre a very definite wink. 'If you like, we can carry on this discussion when we get back.'

'Oh, I'd like,' Quatre said boldly, surprising himself, and then shocked himself even more by throwing his arms around Trowa's neck and attacking the other man's mouth. After one little gasp, Trowa let him.

'Nice,' Trowa said finally. He was flushed, just a little, and breathing rather more quickly than usual. 'Ooooo-kay. Now I can't decide what I want to do; get to the bakery before all the raspberry muffins are gone, or drag you into my bedroom. Any opinions on that?'

_Bedroom_, Quatre thought longingly, but he didn't say it. He wanted to, very much. Instead, he squelched down that sudden stab of longing, and gave Trowa a demure little smile. This was moving far too fast; a brisk walk in the fresh air would clear his head nicely, and convince him that sex with a man he'd scarcely known for twelve hours was a bad idea.

'I'd hate to deprive you of your Sunday treat. Perhaps we should stay with the original plan. Um, if that's OK?'

Trowa laughed. 'I'm fine. It's a win-win situation for me, either way. Now, come on.'

In the small hallway, Trowa flung the door open, and Quatre hesitated at the first step down into the street.

This was it; his first step into the real world. He couldn't remember the last time he'd gone out without a bodyguard. But it was a bright sunny day and nobody knew who he was and he wanted, so much, to do this.

'All right, Cat?'

Quatre gave him a hesitant little nod. 'I just- well, I look like I walked into a wall. People are going to stare at me, aren't they? What shall I say if anyone asks me what happened?'

'It's not that bad.' Trowa tipped his chin back and gave him an appraising look. 'Honestly. And you can just tell the truth, can't you? That some guys tried to mug you?'

'I suppose.' Quatre took a deep breath, and moved his feet.

In daylight, it was a lovely street, paved with cobblestones, and with a little park at one end. All the shop-fronts were brightly painted, although the book shop was definitely the nicest, with its decoration of flowers and magical creatures.

The bakery smelled heavenly; the girl behind the counter obviously knew Trowa, chatting with him about how business was doing, and sneaking little glances at his companion, as Quatre picked out an assortment of pastries. He'd never done that either before; there was a pastry chef at home who sent up baskets of baked goods on request.

It was the same in the newsagents next door. The teenage boy who served them joked with Trowa but shot Quatre a long, curious look as well. It was the oddest sensation; none of these people knew who he was. They looked at him, yes, but they were probably wondering if the blond guy was Trowa's new boyfriend, or what had happened to his face.

They weren't looking at Quatre Raberba Winner. It was tremendously liberating, enough so that when they left the shop, he slid his hand into Trowa's. He'd never held another man's hand in public before. Mindful of discretion and duty to his family, his and Justin's relationship had been conducted almost entirely behind locked doors and tightly drawn curtains. It felt good, wrapping his fingers around the other man's, especially when Trowa squeezed back and swung their hands together.

'I'm not sure if we'll make it to the park, actually.' Trowa cocked one eye at the clouds gathering overhead. It looks like it's going to rain soon.'

'I like walking in the rain,' Quatre said dreamily, lifting his face to the sky, trying to imagine what rain would feel like, falling on his skin. 'Well, I've never really done it, but I like the idea of it.'

Trowa grinned. 'You colonials. You're as bad as Duo. When he first came to Sanque, he used to spend hours just standing in the rain. I was sure he'd get pneumonia at some point.' His tone was indulgent, and just a little teasing, but he somehow sounded like he understood as well.

'Haven't you ever been to space?'

'I was born on L3, but my family moved to Earth when I was just a baby.' He reached up his free hand to wipe something off his face. 'You know, if you really want to try walking in the rain, I think now's your big chance.'

The first raindrops danced lightly on his skin. It felt amazing; then a larger drop plopped into his eye and Trowa burst out laughing. 'You stand here and enjoy yourself if you want, but I'm warning you, you mightn't like a downpour in Sanque quite so much as you think. If you want to hang around and get soaked, please yourself. I'm going back home.'

'No, I'll come with you.' Quatre scrubbed at his eye. He hadn't expected it would be quite so cold, or so _wet_.

'Race you? 'Trowa suggested, shifting his packages under one arm, and taking off.

Quatre flung himself in hot pursuit, reaching the shop only a couple of paces behind.

'Hey, you're pretty fast.'

'You cheated!' Quatre accused. 'I wasn't ready.'

'I still won,' Trowa said smugly, opening the door. 'Don't I get a prize for that?'

'I don't think you deserve anything.' Quatre's eyes sparkled as he headed upstairs. 'It wasn't a fair contest, really.'

Trowa, following one step behind, swatted him with the folded newspaper. 'It worked though. Otherwise, you'd still be out there dancing with the raindrops and catching your death of cold, and I'd be all lonely here by myself. And speaking of colds, we should dry off a bit. You go into the bathroom and I'll get some more towels.'

He didn't actually look that bad, Quatre decided, looking at himself in the mirror. Well, apart from the fact that one side of his face was turning into a rainbow of mottled blues and yellows. The dash down the street had put some colour into his cheeks, his bangs were trailing into his eyes, and the wet, cotton t-shirt was clinging to his ribs and the points of his nipples.

He looked … almost sexy.

Trowa apparently thought so too. He came into the bathroom with an armload of towels, saying something about the hot water supply and then stopped short.

'Hey.' His green eyes were suddenly very dark, very focussed, and the focus was all on Quatre. It was exciting and exhilarating and just a tiny bit scary, having someone look at him like that. He'd stripped off his own shirt somewhere between bedroom and bathroom, and there were little trails of water dripping down his skin. 'You know, you really should take those wet things off before you catch cold.'

'I know.' Quatre swallowed. Oh, God, he'd never felt like this before. He was utterly, blindingly aware of sheer sensations. The slow drip of cold water from his hair; the soaking fabric moulded to his skin, and the sudden, aching need in his groin. That above all.

And Trowa, stalking closer, predatory and watchful as a big cat seeking particularly desirable prey. He hadn't noticed the smattering of freckles across his nose before, or that one of his front teeth was just a fraction crooked.

He hurled himself into Trowa's arms just before the other man reached him and the kiss was a desperate clash of lips and teeth and desire. He didn't even realise that Trowa had pinned him against the wall until he felt the cool tiles behind his back, and was ravishing his mouth.

Not just his mouth either; there was one hand between his legs and the other had torn up his t-shirt and was tweaking and teasing each nipple in turn, and throughout it all, Trowa was kissing him senseless in the truest sense of the word; stealing all of his senses, and sublimating them in that endless kiss.

One tiny, functioning part of his brain sent fingers scurrying to unzip Trowa's jeans, and stroke his arousal. Trowa came first, sprawling to the floor with none of his usual grace, and Quatre collapsed on top of him.

'Wow,' Quatre finally whispered. His head ached slightly where he'd whacked it against the floor; he could feel his own semen splattered on his skin, see it on his borrowed clothes. He was beyond caring. About anything.

It had never, _never_ felt like that before. He'd had his most explosive, intense, starburst of an orgasm just from a kiss, and Trowa's hand on his cock. And he was still feeling the aftershocks; his body just wasn't used to this magnitude of pleasure.

It wasn't like having sex in those places on L4 either; Trowa wasn't rushing to clean up and dress and hurry back to whatever façade he lived behind. Far from it, he tugged off Quatre's clammy, sticky jeans and underwear and flung them across the floor to join his own, and then pulled Quatre close and kissed his forehead; one of those gentle kisses that sang with sheer affection.

'It was pretty wow, yeah.'

He could tell from Trowa's voice, from the look in his eyes, that this wasn't something that happened to him everyday, either. It was special.

'Can you even begin to imagine,' Trowa asked softly, 'what actual sex is going to be like?'

Quatre shivered. 'Mind-blowing.'

'Something like that. Talking of blowing, where d'you stand on oral sex? 'Cause I really, really hope you like it.'

'Oh, I do,' Quatre assured him hastily. 'Very much. Very much, indeed. As for the standing part, well, if you really want, we can do that way, but I quite like doing it in bed.'

'You,' Trowa's lips flitted over his temple, 'are something else. Totally.'

'Am I? Quatre wriggled happily. 'So are you.' He smiled, pressing his lips to Trowa's arm. 'Does it still count as pillow talk if we're lying on the floor?'

'Why don't you lie on me instead?' Trowa offered, draping Quatre's body over his like a blanket. 'How's that? You'd better like it, since I'm not sure if I'll ever be able to move again.'

'Me neither.' Quatre nuzzled his neck, letting his tongue dab against the slightly damp skin. 'I'll never actually want to move. Never again.'

'Guess we'll have to stay like this forever then.'

'Oh, the hardship.' It would be wonderful, Quatre thought hazily. Just him and Trowa entwined for all eternity. He could do that.

'Talking about hard, there may possibly be parts of me that want to move in the fairly near future. And given what you just did to me, you may consider that as a serious compliment.'

'Mmm,' Quatre sighed. He couldn't ever remember being this happy. It wasn't just the sex; it was the way Trowa was holding him; the silly, gentle teasing; the feeling of being exactly where he belonged.

'You know, we might be a little bit more comfortable in bed.'

'I'm comfortable right here,' Quatre protested. 'Please, Trowa. I don't want to have to move.'

'You're not lying on the on the cold floor. ' Trowa's arms tightened around him. 'Hang on. I'm going to move us somewhere a bit nicer. OK?'

'OK.' He hadn't been lying about not wanting to move, but it was rather nice to feel the strength in his companion's body, as Trowa stood up slowly. Quatre couldn't remember anyone ever carrying him before, not since he was a very small child. Being carried by a warm, naked man was extremely pleasant; especially when that warm naked man was eyeing him like he was the most delicious, extravagant dessert ever.

Leaning forward slightly in Trowa's arms, Quatre treated himself to a long, luxurious lick up the column of Trowa's throat as they crossed the living room.

'Right.' Trowa's voice came out somewhere between a growl and a purr. 'No way are we going to make it all the way into the bedroom.'

Quatre found himself tipped, unceremoniously, on to the sofa; Trowa tumbling on top of him.

'Tease,' Trowa accused, hands busily exploring.

'It's only teasing if I'm not prepared to follow though.'

Those hands were suddenly very still, one on his left hip, the other at his waist, and two green eyes were staring down at him.

'Ah. I see. Cat, just how far are you prepared to follow through then?'

Excellent question. It wasn't like he hadn't slept with strangers before; people he'd known for far less time and with whom he'd had no connection other than a mutual desire for some sort of physical release and the pretence of intimacy.

'Hey. It's all right.' Whatever Trowa saw in his face made him shift away slightly, although one hand was suddenly stroking his hair. 'We don't have to do that, yet. We can find some other stuff to start with, OK?'

'OK.' Miraculously, Trowa's voice managed to slice through the chaos of voices in his head. Iria saying that people would always want to be with him because of who he was, and all the warnings that Rashid and the others had dinned into him since he was a child, and even a long-ago memory of Jordan talking wistfully about a sports car he wanted, and how his birthday was coming up.

People always wanted something from him. Iria wanted the perfect, obedient little brother, and Rashid needed to keep him safe to fulfil the promise he'd made to a woman who'd died. There was only Heero, another lonely boy, who'd never asked for anything and had just wanted to be his friend.

And now, apparently there was Trowa, who seemed to want the same. Well, with a few extra benefits.

'I'm sorry.' He whispered it, not entirely sure why, except he spent most of his life apologising for something or other.

'What are you sorry for?' Trowa asked as softly and, just like that, there was nothing to worry about.

Just the two of them tangled on the sofa, with Trowa's hand in Quatre's hair.

'There's no rush.' Trowa grinned at him. 'You've taken care of the initial …hardship very capably. We can take things a little bit more slowly next time, hmmm? We've got all day and all night and….'

And someone rapped on the door, and Duo's voice floated into the room.

'Tro? I'm really sorry, but I think I did something wrong with the new stock control programme; the screen's frozen and I'm not sure what to do next. D'you think you could come downstairs for five minutes?'

Trowa swore luridly, one hand swiping the fall of hair away from his eyes. 'Fuck. I'll be five minutes. Ten, tops. Don't you dare move, got that?'

'Got that,' Quatre said obediently.

Damn. In the bathroom, he'd been prepared to let Trowa do anything, a_nything_, without even considering protection or the fact that they hardly knew each other. He would have begged, Quatre reflected soberly. He wasn't innocent, or even particularly inexperienced. Over the past few years, he'd come to see sex as a physical release, a fleeting moment of connection if he was lucky. With Trowa, it had been more.

What the _hell_ was going on with them? Heero had always claimed to believe in love at first sight; a rather charming inconsistency in his friend's ruthlessly practical personality. Quatre didn't really believe that such a thing was possible. Anyway, he hadn't fallen in love with Trowa the moment he'd seen him.

He'd felt just a little spurt of irritation that the man was trying to interfere in his life.

It had taken, oh, a minute or two. Trowa's smile, and the teasing glint in his eyes, and the feel of Trowa's hands on him.

Love, then. Heero had been right after all. It was possible.

All in all, maybe it was for the best that Duo had interrupted them when he did. He could keep telling himself that.

It was still raining, Quatre noted, glancing at the clock by the window. Not that he was going to time Trowa or anything. It was rather soporific, just lying there, and watching the raindrops; the sort of thing people did in romantic comedies. And Trowa's couch was comfortable; big enough for him to stretch out on, and deliciously soft.

The whole room was comfortable, actually. He hadn't paid much attention to the décor before but it was all cosy and quirky and a definite showcase for Trowa's personality.

Books, of course, shelves of them, with stacks on the floor where they'd over-spilled the storage area. At some point, he'd get up and see what Trowa liked reading, and go through his CD collection. And ask him where he'd bought the carved wooden masks, and why he collected circus posters, and who the little red haired girl was, who laughed out of a variety of photographs. At some point he'd do all that.

Right now, it was enough just to lie on that exquisitely comfortable, over-stuffed couch and watch the raindrops, and remember the feel of Trowa moving against him.


	8. Lazy Sunday

Note: Many thanks to everyone who has been reviewing, and to KS, as always, for editing. Happy Easter!

**Lazy Sunday:**

It was a dream and he didn't want to have to wake up. Anything that felt this good had to be a dream.

A gentle hand was stroking his hair, stirring his bangs gently and smoothing them off his forehead. He was _not_ going to wake up; not going to open his eyes, and be back in that vast, empty bed in his suite at the hotel, with Iria or one of her assistants standing over him with the day's schedule.

'Cat?'

His lashes, despite themselves, fluttered open. He might imagine anything else, but that voice had to be real.

Trowa was real.

'Where am I?' Quatre muttered confusedly, trying to make sense of his surroundings, and why Trowa seemed to be looking at him upside down. It actually took a minute to figure that he was still on the couch, but his head was in Trowa's lap. 'I must have fallen asleep! I never fall asleep during the day.'

'Well, first time for everything,' Trowa chuckled. 'I guess you were more tired than you thought. It wasn't very flattering though; we were making out and then suddenly you just flopped fast asleep. You're just lucky I don't have any major insecurity issues.'

'Oh, God,' Quatre dragged one arm across his eyes. 'I didn't really, did I? I'm so sorry!'

'Relax.' Those green eyes gleamed with mischief. 'Just teasing. I couldn't resist. I was downstairs with Duo for nearly half an hour; when I came back up, you'd crashed.'

'Wow. I've never done anything like that. I remember lying here and watching the rain and I suppose I dozed off. I'm really sorry.'

'Stop apologising,' Trowa said easily. 'You obviously needed the rest, and I'd been feeling guilty for leaving Duo with all the work. This way, you got a nap, I got to help out a bit in the shop. All good.'

'Mmm. I'm all rested now.' Quatre tipped his head back, smiling up at the other man. This was all so lovely. There was sunlight pouring in through the windows, and Trowa's body felt warm and solid and blessedly _real_ against him. 'If there was anything you wanted to…talk about, we could do that.'

'Sorry, Cat.' Trowa bent down and kissed the smile. 'I think we should take a rain-check for now. It's nearly one o'clock; I have to open the shop at two and I'd rather not be watching the clock when I finally get to take you to bed.'

'So what time do you close then?' Quatre stretched luxuriously, ending up curled against Trowa.

'On Sunday? Six. But I've asked Duo to come back for the last couple of hours. He's already got plans to meet someone for lunch, or I'd have asked him to stay for the whole afternoon. Talking of lunch, would you like something to eat? It's stopped raining; we could go up on the roof for a bit.'

'That would be nice. Can I help?'

'Sure. I thought I'd just make a salad, and warm up some of the bread we got. We have all those pastries for dessert. That OK?'

'Perfect.' Preparing lunch together was very pleasant; cosy and domestic and unlike anything Quatre had ever experienced before. He cooked with Heero sometimes, in his friend's small kitchen, but Heero had his own system of doing things and Quatre usually ended up being assigned a couple of simple tasks, just to keep him out of the way.

It was much more fun in Trowa's kitchen, stepping around each other to get to the knife drawer or the fridge or the sink offered all sorts of opportunities for a little intimacy.

The roof terrace, which he hadn't really noticed before was lovely too. In addition to a couple of wooden benches and a swing seat, there were pots of herbs and flowers and a white cat dozing in a patch of sunlight.

'I didn't know you had a cat! What's her name? Is she friendly? Can I touch her?' Quatre put the tray he was carrying down and held out one hand to stroke the soft, snowy fur.

'She's very friendly, her name's Mallow, and I actually have two cats. Sophie's really shy though; you'll probably just see a streak of black fur and that'll be it.' He pulled out a chair. 'Come and eat. You can put her on your lap if you want.'

'Really? I'd love to hold her.' Mallow snuggled happily against him, her little body throbbing with purrs at the contact. Just the way Quatre felt when Trowa held him. 'This place is so lovely. How long have you lived here?'

'I've been running the shop for nearly four years. My aunt used to own it, and my sister and I used to come here for holidays when we were kids.'

'Didn't you live in Sanque when you were a child then?' Quatre broke off a piece of buttered bread and wolfed it down, surprised at how hungry he suddenly felt.

'Part of the time. Our parents worked for a travelling circus, so we moved around a lot. It always felt like being home, when we came here.'

'Really? A circus? Was that fun?'

'Some parts, yeah. I liked the animals, but I hated packing up and moving on all the time. Whenever you made friends with someone, either they left or you did. I think that's why Cathy and I are so close; we pretty much had to be friends. D'you get on with your sister? Iria, was it?'

Quatre shrugged. 'Mostly. I wouldn't say we're friends exactly; she's almost fifteen years older and she's more like my mother. My other sisters are all married, and my father's been ill for a long time, so Iria's really all I've got. I think we'd get on better if she didn't treat me like a six year old.'

'That's elder sisters for you,' Trowa said easily. 'Cathy's only a couple of years older, but she loves bossing me around.'

'What does she do?' It was so much easier to talk about Trowa's family than his own, and he wanted to know all about him anyway.

'She's a teacher. She's got a little girl, Eleanor. You'll meet them both tomorrow. Cathy doesn't finish work 'til five, so Ellie usually comes here for a couple of hours after school, and then Cath picks her up.'

'I'd like to meet them both.' Quatre drizzed a little more olive oil on his salad. It was shattering, the way Trowa said this sort of thing so casually. He'd never dare to introduce a boyfriend to any of his family, and Trowa was treating it like the most natural thing in the world.

Trowa had taken him into his home, his life, apparently without a second's thoughts, and Quatre had done nothing but deceive him. Well, that was going to change. He'd tell Trowa who he really was, once they had time and privacy, and Trowa could decide if he wanted to throw him out.

'You're being very quiet,' Trowa nudged his leg under the table. 'Is everything all right?'

Quatre pressed back. 'It's fine. All a little hard to believe, that's all. I didn't even know you existed twenty four hours ago, and now you're talking about introducing me to your family.'

'Too fast?' Trowa asked perceptively. 'Don't worry, I'll just say you're a friend.' He winked. 'Not that Cathy'll believe me for one second.'

'Oh?' The blond shifted uncomfortably in his seat, getting a disapproving look from the cat on his knee. What was that supposed to mean; that Trowa made a habit bringing home strangers and letting them meet his family? 'Why not?'

'She's a smart girl. I'm sure the fact that I can't keep my hands off this gorgeous blond guy will clue her in.' His smile faded as he studied Quatre's face. 'Oh, right. I get you. No, for the record, I don't normally take guys I've just picked up home to meet my sister and my nine year old niece.'

'You don't really know me.' Quatre took a mouthful of salad. Trowa had said that one sentence so easily – _guys I've picked up_ – as if it was a regular thing for him, and it hurt, somehow. Was he just the latest in a long line who got brought home and fed and then dismissed?

_Don't think about that._

He wasn't any better himself, anyway.

'No, but I'm starting to.' Trowa grinned. 'What; d'you have some deep, dark secret you have to share with me? In a movie, now, you'd turn out to be a secret agent or something, hiding out from the bad guys.'

'Well, I'm definitely not a secret agent.' Quatre chewed a mouthful of bread. This would be the perfect time to admit who he actually was; but the shop was due to open and he needed time to explain. He'd wait. Just another couple of hours until Duo came back to watch the shop. It wasn't so very bad anyway; he wasn't a criminal or anything. And maybe Trowa would still treat him like a normal person. 'I think you've been watching too much TV.'

'Mm, you could be right. Maybe I need a nice blond to keep me occupied instead. And talking of occupations, we'd better head downstairs.'

The dishes ended up being stacked in the sink to wash later, something Heero would never have allowed, but Trowa said was fine. instead, Quatre took his time putting away the leftover food, stacking it neatly in the fridge.

'Hey. You don't have to come down to the shop if you'd rather stay up here. You can take a book on to the roof terrace and sunbathe for a bit.'

That was tempting. Very tempting. The thought of meeting Duo again made him just a bit nervous, and then there would be customers in the shop, _looking_ at him; the way strangers always did, with that hideous mix of speculation and resentment and envy.

No; they looked at Quatre Raberba Winner like that. Not Cat. The people in the bakery and the newsagent had just shown mild curiosity about Trowa's new friend, and had probably wondered how he'd got the bruising on his face.

Even Duo had been mostly friendly, but obviously very curious about the guy his friend had brought home. Maybe that was a good sign; maybe it showed Trowa didn't make a habit of having strangers in his bed.

Maybe.

'I'd like to see your shop.' Quatre touched one finger to his cheek, and tried to make a joke about it. 'You don't think I'll scare your customers off, looking like this?'

'My customers are tougher than that.' Trowa said it softly, reaching out to touch him, gentle as the brush of a cat's whiskers. 'You don't look that awful, I swear.'

'OK.' Quatre took a deep breath. 'Once I'm not going to give children nightmares or anything like that.'

Trowa snorted, drawing Quatre into his arms. 'You could never give anyone nightmares. Dreams, yeah. All sorts of dreams.'

'Dreams,' Quatre echoed. 'You're not a dream, are you? When I woke up earlier, well, before I woke up properly, I thought maybe I'd dreamt you, dreamt all of this.'

'I'm not a dream, Cat. I'll prove it.'

Quatre squeaked as one hand ran over the curve of his bottom and then pinched lightly.

'See? Perfectly real. Now come on. Some of us have work to do.'

'Oh, here's the slave-driver in person, come to crack the whip,' Duo grumbled as they walked through the door, winking at Quatre to show he wasn't serious. 'You know, Barton, in this country they have unions to stop this sort of exploitation.'

'Ignore him,' Trowa said firmly. 'It's so hard to get good help these days.'

Quatre was ignoring both of them, by then, gazing around the shop. It was nothing like any shop he'd ever been in before. There were a couple of low, comfortable couches in one corner, and a small fireplace; another seating area by the counter was furnished with beanbags. Of course, there were books everywhere, but what had first caught his attention were the paintings on the wall.

Dragons and mystical creatures and circus performers jostled for space on every spare inch of wall space.

'This is amazing. I've never seen anything like this. Never.' He ran one finger down the scaly neck of a scarlet-and-gold dragon, almost expecting the creature to move. 'Who painted these?'

'Yours truly,' Duo looked pleased at the comment. 'You really like them?'

'I love them. I didn't know you were an artist.'

'That's 'cause I'm not. I just do this stuff for fun.'

Trowa rolled his eyes at his friend. 'He's being far too modest, Cat. He's done a few commissions for other shops on the street, and he's done some book illustrations as well.'

'It's no big deal,' Duo said, shrugging. 'Listen, I better go. See you guys at about four? Have fun.'

'What can I do?'

Trowa laughed. 'Seriously, you don't have to help. You're supposed to be on holiday. Why don't you find a book to read and a place to sit? You can go and look at my bookshelves upstairs if nothing here grabs you.

'I remember this author from when I was a child.' Quatre pulled out a Narnia anthology. 'I loved 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.' I hadn't realised there was a series. May I borrow this one?'

'Knock yourself out.' Trowa looked amused at his enthusiasm, and then turned away to deal with his first customers; two young teenage boys.

Quatre curled up on one of the beanbags, which offered a nice view of the counter, and the man standing beside it, and started to leaf through his book, admiring the illustrations.

It was, however, more tempting just to watch Trowa. He was taking books off the shelves for his two young customers, talking to them earnestly, and they were beaming back at him. There were a few other people in the shop, happily browsing the shelves or leaving through a book they'd found.

It was all a world away – in every sense –from his life on L4.

Even the lady standing by the counter with her daughter seemed quite happy to wait for Trowa's attention.

Without bothering to think about it, Quatre, jumped up, placing his book carefully on the floor and walked over. He had offered to help, after all and Trowa was busy.

'Good afternoon, may I help you?' he asked politely, and abruptly realising that he probably couldn't. He didn't even know how the books were arranged, or how to operate the cash register or anything.

The woman smiled at him. 'Do you have the new Artemis Fowl book in yet? Trowa said he was expecting them in yesterday.'

Artemis Fowl? What on Earth was that? 'Can you wait a moment? I'll just check.'

Trowa, who was bent over some sort of graphic novels with the boys, grinned at the question. 'I've got a new assistant, have I? There should be some on the table by the door; if not, there's a whole boxful just inside the stockroom. Would you mind putting some out if they're all gone?'

'No problem.' Quatre collected an armful of the glittering hardbacks, and handed one to his customer. 'I'm sorry, I don't know how to work the till yet. Do you mind waiting for Trowa?'

'Not in the least.' The lady gave the book to her daughter and leaned comfortably against the counter. 'I'm Marion and my daughter's Polly; we're in here all the time, so you'll get to know us. Is today your first day? Trowa never said he was hiring a new assistant.'

'Oh, I don't work here, I'm just a friend.'

'Well, it's lovely to meet you.' She gave him a rather knowing smile, and a wink before turning to Trowa and handing her book over.

'Thanks, Cat. You know, you don't have to help. You're supposed to be having a lazy day.'

'It's all right. I like just being here. Honestly, I'd like to help out.'

'In that case, you're officially hired for the rest of the afternoon. The pay's not great, and you'll have to sleep with the boss, but there are lots of perks.'

'What are the perks?'

'Discounted books. Oh, and the whole sleeping with the boss thing. That's non-negotiable.'

'I wasn't planning to negotiate it. I was rather counting on it.' Quatre peeked coyly up through his lashes.

'You keep surprising me, you know that. If you don't mind, there a few more boxes of books in the stockroom that need to be put on the shelves.' Trowa closed the door behind them and backed Quatre against the wall. 'This is another condition of employment; whenever I get you alone in a room, I'm going to do something like this.'

'Trowa!' Quatre was scarlet when he was finally released, his lips were tingling from being crushed against Trowa's and he just wanted to do it again.

'Quatre,' Trowa deadpanned. 'Word of advice; look at me like that again and you know exactly what'll happen. Now, quick, tell me three things about yourself.'

'I play the violin, I love Italian food, and I've always wanted to visit Egypt.'

'Full of surprises, just like I said,' Trowa said softly, peeking around the door. 'OK, time to get back to work. We've got customers waiting.'

'Duo was right; you are a slave-driver.'

'Yep.' Trowa looked positively smug at the description, ringing up a selection of books and handing them to Quatre to place in a bag. As the customer walked off, he leaned down to whisper in Quatre's ear. 'In bed and out of bed. You'll find that out later.'

'Trowa!' Quatre was several shades of scarlet as he walked off to attend to a woman who was juggling a stack of books along with a baby and a toddler's hand. The next hour was busy but utterly enjoyable. A few more regular customers introduced themselves and everyone was so _friendly_.

It was fun working with Trowa as well. When they had a few moments to spare, they talked books and compared favourite authors. The only drawback was that there wasn't any time to visit the stockroom again, and Quatre was starting to feel that regular kisses from Trowa were becoming a necessary part of life.

Accordingly, he waited until there was a lull in business. There were customers, but they seemed to be regulars whom Trowa had greeted by name, and they seemed happily occupied in browsing.

'Mr. Barton,' he asked formally, trying to look serious 'I wonder if you could you please come into the stockroom for a minute? I have a little problem I need your help with.'

'What's the problem, Cat?' Trowa was half-smiling, but he looked just a little concerned as well.

'It's exactly fifty eight minutes since you last kissed me.' Quatre tried to sound hopelessly downcast about it. 'I thought my conditions of employment were supposed to include regular trips to the stockroom for making out. Isn't there some sort of law that says I have to get a minimum number of breaks?'

'I think maybe you didn't read the fine print.' Trowa stepped closer, one arm on Quatre's hip, the other cradling the back of his head. 'If the shop is really busy, breaks may be cancelled at the owner's discretion. In that case, the employee will receive overtime benefits.'

'Also at the owner's discretion?' Quatre let his lashes flutter closed. He was _loving_ this. Loving Trowa's fingers stroking his neck, and the hand resting on his hip, rubbing slow circles, and every now and then slipping under his waistband.

'At the mutual discretion of management and staff, I would imagine. Now; time to stop talking for a minute, hmmm? You look like you very badly need to be kissed.'

'Oh, I do,' Quatre assured him definitely. 'More than anything.'

Trowa touched his mouth with one fingertip, drawing a gentle little caress along his bottom lip, smiling when Quatre's tongue darted out to give his a swift lick. The kiss was a sweet meeting of soft, pliant flesh; a promise of delights to come.

'No,' Quatre was begging when Trowa slowly pulled away. 'Please. Trowa.'

'You've very demanding for the hired help,' Trowa mock-grumbled. 'Patience, now. Once Duo gets here, I'm going to drag you up the stairs and ravish you 'til you beg for mercy.'

'Mercy,' Quatre whispered at once, adjusting his – Duo's – jeans, and wishing he was wearing a less fitted shirt.

'Yeah, just like that.' The hand on Quatre's hipped slipped in a southerly direction, palming the very definite bulge between his legs. 'Oh, yeah.' Just when Quatre thought he would die – explode- spontaneously combust from sheer overload of sensations, Trowa's tongue slipped into his ear. 'I'm going to screw you cross-eyed later, baby, but right now we've got to go and sell children's books. Move your ass.'

The door to the stockroom opened just before they reached it, and a broadly-grinning Duo walked in. 'Do you guys remotely care that there's a queue of customers out there? Nope, didn't think so. Plus the most gorgeous guy I've ever seen with _the_ most killer blue eyes is out there looking for Cat.'

_Note: The Narnia Chronicles are, of course, written by CS Lewis. The Artemis Fowl books, by Eoin Colfer, feature an Irish teenage boy who happens to be a criminal genius._


	9. Reality Bites

Disclaimer: the Gundam Wing characters do not, lamentably, belong to me….

Note: many thanks to everyone who was kind enough to review the last chapter.

Warnings: Ahem. Maybe…..

**Chapter 9:**

'Cat? Is there something you need to tell me?' Trowa's face was very sober as Duo whisked back into the shop, the long braid swinging jauntily behind him.

Quatre fiddled with a lock of hair, trying to make sense of all of this. Heero had said he wouldn't arrive until evening; how had he managed to arrive several hours early? He'd probably hijacked the shuttle and installed warp speed or something.

'Um. I think it might be my friend Heero. I don't know how he got here so soon, but it sounds like him.'

The green eyes studying him sharpened. 'Heero? Your friend who's the IT workaholic? You didn't say he also happened to be drop dead gorgeous.'

'Well, _some_ people might think he is,' Quatre told him hastily. 'Not me.' Trowa's expression lightened, just a little. 'Honestly, we're just friends. After all, it's not fair that you're the only one who's allowed to have a very attractive best friend. I could be very jealous of Duo if I wanted.'

'You don't have to be; there's never been anything like that between us.' The tall man smiled. 'I don't usually believe in sleeping with the hired help. They start to get ideas above their station, and take liberties.'

'What about me?'

'There's an exception to every rule, isn't there?' Trowa nuzzled his mouth, very gently. 'If you want to take liberties, I could put up with that.'

'That's good,' Quatre wound both arms around the taller man's neck. 'I really, really want to take all sorts of liberties with you as soon as possible. Just let me talk to Heero first. I promise, it won't take long, but he's flown all the way from L4 to see me.'

'Why?'

Yes, that was a fair enough question. 'I've told you some of it. I had a row with my sister Iria last night; Heero knows I'm hopeless at confrontations, and I left him a text last night saying just how upset I was. He was worried about me.' He shrugged slightly. 'I never thought he'd fly all the way here just to see me.'

'He sounds like a very good friend,' Trowa said quietly.

Quatre nodded. Heero certainly was. And Quatre had been so caught up with WEI lately that he hadn't been making much effort to keep in touch. God, he was pathetic; he couldn't even remember the last time he'd had a proper conversation with his best friend.

'And it must have been a hell of a row if you were that upset about it.' The other man's voice was very gentle. Up close, those amazing green eyes had a ring of pure, clear gold around the iris. Very beautiful.

'It was. My family is …. rather complicated. I'm the only son, so I'm expected to take over running our business, whether I like it or not.'

'I'm guessing you don't like?'

'Something like that,' Quatre said ruefully. 'Actually, I wouldn't mind the actual work part; it's just that I'll be expected to behave with due decorum at all times, as befits a young man with a responsible position.' He shrugged, hearing Iria's words rattle around his head; he could quote them verbatim at this stage. 'It's the way things are on L4. There are so many things one isn't allowed to do.'

'No running off to nightclubs?'

'No spending the day in bookshops and sneaking into the stockroom to make out with the boss.' Quatre took a deep breath, surprised that Heero hadn't already stormed in and dragged him home. Duo must be doing a very effective job of distracting him. 'I'd better go and talk to Heero.'

'OK. You can invite him to stay for dinner, if he likes, but he has to go after that.'

'Really?'

'Well, he's come all this way, you can't expect him to leave after ten minutes. He can stay and have dinner, but he really, _really_ has to leave us alone at some point.' He grinned. 'I'll ask Duo to eat with us as well, he should manage to keep your friend occupied. Now, come on.'

The man sprawled all over one of the beanbags and flirting with Duo wasn't Heero Yuy. Gorgeous, yes; with stunning blue eyes, currently running all over Duo, but he was considerably taller than Heero, and with long, pale blond hair.

'Zechs! What are you doing here?'

'What _happened_ to you?' Zechs was suddenly on his feet, the dilettante pose shed in one second. 'Who the fuck did this to you?'

'Oh.' Quatre swallowed, lifting one hand self-consciously to his face. He'd actually managed to forget what he looked like. 'I met some…not very nice people last night. Trowa saved me, and brought me home with him. I'm fine now. Zechs, what are you doing here?'

'Heero just called me an hour ago; there's a problem at the Sanque shuttle port; all flights are being diverted so he won't arrive until tomorrow. He asked me to drop by and check on you.' He gave Duo his most charming smile and the long-haired man beamed back. 'And may I say I'm very happy I did?'

No! This was getting far, far too complicated. He didn't need Relena's brother, of all people, intruding into his lovely little fantasy, and getting involved with Trowa's friend, and causing all sorts of mischief.

'Zechs?' Trowa stepped forward and gave the other man a brief handshake, glancing between both blonds curiously. 'How do you two know each other?'

'You know Zechs?' Quatre resisted a sudden urge to clutch his head in his hands and just scream. This …. couldn't be happening.

'Such a small world, isn't it?' Zechs interposed smoothly, bestowing another admiring smile upon Duo. 'Fortunately for me. Trowa, I see that I've been sadly remiss in not visiting your shop before now. And Quatre, I do quite see why you're in no hurry to leave.'

'Yes, well, never mind that,' Quatre flustered, painfully crimson. 'Zechs, can I talk to you, please? Trowa, would you mind if we went up to the roof for a minute?'

Climbing the two flights of stairs allowed Zechs to transform from besotted Duo-admiration to total pissed-offedness. 'What the hell is going on, Winner? Heero is frantic about all this, and I'm wasting a perfectly good Sunday afternoon running around after you.'

'He doesn't need to worry about me!' Quatre tossed his head impatiently. In some ways, Heero's protectiveness was warming, but it currently happened to be very annoying. All he wanted was a little time alone with Trowa, and reality kept intruding. _Most_ annoying. 'I'm fine.'

'You're delusional if you think you're anywhere near fine, Winner,' Zechs said bluntly. He gave Trowa's garden furniture a disdainful glance and threw himself into one of the plastic chairs. 'Your sister's out of her mind with worry, and Rashid and the other Maguanacs are practically foaming at the mouth to start searching for their precious Master Quatre, except that you've ordered them not to.'

'I called them!' Quatre protested. 'I told them I was all right. How do you know all this anyway?'

'I was at your hotel, earlier this morning. Relena wanted me to give you a message. You need to call them, Quatre. Seriously.' Zechs gave him a disdainful glance. 'Now, about my sister, have you any intention of going ahead with this ridiculous marriage?'

'She doesn't want to marry me.'

'That isn't what I asked.' Zechs' eyes could go from smiling, sunlit blue to arctic coldness in one second flat. He'd forgotten that. 'For the record, I have no intention of letting my little sister go through with it.'

'I don't want it either.' Quatre felt a sudden, warm surge of relief. He hadn't wanted it, for one second, and if Relena's older brother forbade it, there was nothing even Iria could do.

Zechs nodded. 'Good. You're the one who's going to have to call it off. 'Lena is over eighteen, so I can't technically stop her. She doesn't _want_ to marry you, but she has all sorts of ridiculous notions of sacrificing herself for the people of Sanque and how it's her duty and other preposterous claptrap.'

Quatre nodded. 'Iria thinks I need to do something like that. She's scared that if there's a scandal about me being gay, your government will use it as an excuse to back out of signing a treaty with L4.'

'Oh, please,' Zechs snorted loudly. 'Sanque needs this more than you do. We're not going to back out, even if you hold a press conference in drag, and screw Trowa in front of the cameras.'

'Really? Iria said that there was no other option.'

'Quatre, maybe you should stop thinking so much about what Iria tells you and try to figure something out by yourself for once. She wants to marry you off and she thinks she's found a perfect way to do it.' He tossed his head, all that pale hair spilling down his back. 'Frankly, if you're gullible enough to go along with it, that's your problem, but you're not dragging my sister into it.'

'I know. Honestly, it's not like I want to get married either, but Iria was really convincing and Relena seemed happy enough.'

'Relena came home last night and cried for two hours,' Zechs said bluntly. 'Ruin your own life, if you don't have the courage to stand up to your sister for once, but 'Lena is not going to be a part of this nonsense. Is that understood?'

'Yes,' Quatre said miserably. Zechs had pretty much summed up his whole miserable life in a couple of well-chosen words. He'd never had the courage actually to stand up to Iria; yes, he'd sneaked around and managed to keep a few small rebellions under her radar, but he'd never flat-out refused to do anything.

She was going to be so furious. She'd talk about how upset Father would be, and the rest of the family, and wonder where she'd gone wrong in his upbringing. She might even cry and say it had to have all been her fault. She might bring up their mother.

Zechs nodded. 'See that you do. Relena is _not_ getting sucked into your travesty of a life and that's final.'

'I'll talk to Iria, I promise. Zechs, I'm sorry. I never meant for 'Lena to get involved. At first, Iria thought we could just pretend to be a couple. She thought it would look good if I was dating someone from Sanque, and then it all just snowballed from there.'

'That's not my problem. Or my sister's.'

'It isn't, no. You're perfectly right.' Quatre took a deep breath; it was now or never, really. He'd thought Zechs was a friend, up until a couple of months ago, when the other man had suddenly cut off any contact between them. Even if Zechs was currently furious with him, at least he was there. There was maybe a small chance that he could find out what had gone wrong. 'I'm terribly sorry for whatever I did to offend you. It was totally unintentional, and I'd love to make amends, if you'll just tell me what I did that was so awful.'

Zechs tossed his hair back in a shimmering swathe of light. 'Do you actually need to ask? You're unbelievable, Quatre. You really are. You're supposed to be an intelligent person; I'm sure you could work it out if you were interested, which you obviously aren't.'

'I am asking you now.' Steeling himself, Quatre forced his gaze up from the scarred, knotted wood of the table top, and met Zechs' eyes. 'If I don't know what I did wrong, how can I fix it?'

'Because you've already made it more than obvious that you don't care,' Zechs said bluntly. 'And empty apologies aren't going to make any difference at this stage. Not when you claim not even to know what you're apologising for.'

'I can't exactly solve a problem if I don't know what it is, can I?' Quatre asked. 'All I _can_ do is to say I'm sorry.'

Zechs shrugged, his expression lightening by a tiny fraction. 'It's a little late for that now, Winner. If you're remotely interested, why don't you sit down and talk to your sister for once, instead of taking in everything she spoon-feeds you as gospel truth?'

'All right.' He had no idea what Zechs was really talking about; life, suddenly, had become far too complicated. All he wanted was to be alone with Trowa for a while, and the world was intent on thrusting reality into that little fantasy.

Now what exactly is going on with Barton?' Zechs asked, in an uncanny echo of his thoughts. 'What the hell were you thinking, going off like that alone?' He shifted in his seat, stretching out his long legs. 'And why couldn't you have picked up someone with a proper roof garden? And comfortable furniture?'

'I don't care about that!' Quatre flashed. 'I really like him, and he's been wonderful to me.'

'I'm sure he has,' Zechs said snidely. 'For God's sake, Winner, who in their right minds isn't going to help one of the richest men in the universe? The man probably thinks he's got a meal ticket for life, away from his crappy little shop.'

'It's not a crappy little shop. It's wonderful and he's not looking for anything from me. He doesn't even know who I am.'

'Oh, please. How can he not know who you are? You probably have the most recognisable surname ever.'

'He thinks I'm here on holiday. I haven't actually told him my name. Well, he knows it's Quatre, but I've told him most people call me Cat.'

'No, they don't.'

'They do now.'

'Let me get this straight,' Zechs said slowly, a wholly evil grin spreading over his face. 'Trowa – and the lovely Duo – think you're some random tourist. And Duo says you've been helping in the shop.' Zechs sat upright, steepling his fingers together, and looking at Quatre over them. 'You picked this man up in a club last night, he saved your ass and took you home with him, and since then, you've apparently moved in with him and work in his shop. Is that correct? And he doesn't have the faintest idea who you actually are? Sorry, Quatre, _Cat_, but you've gone far, far beyond delusional into stark raving lunacy.'

'It isn't like that,' Quatre protested hotly, flushing. 'I know it all sounds a little crazy, but I really like him. And you have no idea how wonderful it is to be treated like a normal person for once, instead of being Quatre Raberba Winner.'

'But you _are_ Quatre Raberba Winner. Playing house with a man you hardly know doesn't change any of whole thing is utterly insane. Heero was right to be worried about you.'

'I'm actually feeling more sane at the moment than I have for years.' Quarte leaned forward, propping his chin on one hand. 'Zechs, I had fun today. I did things I've never done in my entire life; normal things like buying fresh bread at a bakery and holding someone's hand in the street. I talked to people who were actually interested in me, and what I thought about things. People who looked at me and didn't see the heir to Winner Enterprises, but some guy called Cat and they _still_ wanted to spend time with me. And I realised that I don't much like being Quatre Raberba Winner. I like being Cat.'

'Sure you do. Except that Cat doesn't actually exist, except in your imagination, and he's also a pathological liar. When are you planning to tell Trowa the truth?'

'Tonight. I feel terrible that I've been lying to him, but it didn't really matter in the club; I never thought I'd see him again, and then he was so nice to me last night and I was still in shock a little bit after what had happened, and then I haven't really had time this morning.'

'Right.' Zechs' grin broadened. 'How interesting, that you happened to bump into Trowa Barton. Karma does seem to exist after all.'

Quatre blinked. 'What is that supposed to mean?'

'You'll find out. You do know Heero thinks he set up the whole thing to get closer to you?'

'I know. He's already told me, and I did think about it. I'm not _stupid_, Zechs. I'm perfectly used to people doing all sorts of things to get my attention. And it wasn't like that. For one thing, he couldn't possibly have had time to organise it all, and he's not that sort of person. I know that.'

'You don't know him,' Zechs said flatly. 'Heero thinks he's practically abducted you and you're suffering from some sort of Stockholm Syndrome.'

'Well, he hasn't and I'm not. Zechs, I really like him. And you know him; do you really think he'd do something like that? How do you know each other anyway?'

Zechs shrugged. 'I don't exactly know him. We have a mutual acquaintance, and we both belong to a local conservation group. I've met him a couple of times; that's all.'

'So what happens next? A quick fling before you go back to being the good little Winner heir? You do know that's all you can have with him?'

Quatre nodded miserably. 'I don't know what to do. He's amazing but…I don't know, Zechs. Maybe he won't want to have anything to do with me once he knows who I am, that I haven't been honest with him.'

'So don't tell him,' Zechs suggested immediately. 'Screw his brains out tonight, kiss him goodbye in the morning, and keep it as a nice little fantasy interlude.'

'I can't do that. It wouldn't fair. At least I owe him a little honesty, after what he did for me.'

'Don't be stupid. If you feel you owe him something, buy him a proper patio set. Quatre, the media would just love a scoop like this. Do you really want to be splashed all over the weekend papers when he sells his story to some journalist?'

'He wouldn't do that.'

'You don't know that! You don't know anything about him.' Zechs ran his fingers through his perfect, perfect hair, every strand falling perfectly back into place. 'If you want to live out your little fantasy about being a normal person, fine. Stay here tonight and make popcorn and wash dishes and do whatever it is you don't get to do in your deprived life, but you'll be a fool if you tell him anything. Do I even need to remind you that this whole mess started because your last boyfriend is currently in the process of blackmailing you?'

He took a long look and Quatre's face and sighed.

'Quatre, this is the real world. I'm sorry, but it's not some Hollywood fairytale. Give yourself this one night and go back to your real life in the morning. OK?' He reached out and touched Quatre's cheek, the bruised one. 'This can't work. You know that. Rashid might call you 'Master Quatre' but if you don't go back home damn soon, he's going to come and find you. And Heero gets here tomorrow morning. Do you really want your Trowa to meet them?'

'No,' Quatre whispered sadly. He was right; every single word he'd said was perfectly true.

'Good. You don't live in this world. You know that. Now, one last question. Do you happen to know if the divine Duo is currently single?'

'I'm not sure. But he seemed very impressed by you.'

Zechs looked smug. 'Good. In that case, you'd better go back downstairs and play at being a shop assistant, because I'm taking him out for the evening. And you can tell Trowa that he might be calling in sick tomorrow, all going well.' He stood up; golden and radiant and utterly sure of himself.

'You see? Life is so much simpler when one doesn't have to pretend to be someone else all the time. You should think about that.'

Then he was gone.

Quatre took a succession of deep breaths, the way Heero had taught, trying to make some sense of his whirling thoughts.

He didn't need Zechs getting involved with Trowa's best friend. He didn't need Zechs getting involved with any of this, and producing all those enigmatic statements about karma. He'd probably been making it all up.

Hopefully.


	10. Seeking Perfection

Disclaimer: The Gundam Wing characters do not belong to me. If they did, the show would have been very different…..

**Seeking Perfection:**

Quatre gave Zechs ten minutes before going back downstairs. He didn't want to watch the man openly hitting on Duo, or trying to cope with any more of his annoyingly vague comments.

Instead, he hung over the terrace rail, hearing Duo's exclamations at Zechs' sports car, and watching Zechs open the door and usher him inside. He even resisted the temptation to pick up one of Trowa's pot plants and hurl it down on to that sleek blond head.

Zechs was _not_ supposed to be any part of his shimmering fantasy world. Instead, he'd barged in and annihilated it with a few surgically-precise statements and everything that he'd said had been painfully true. His life wasn't a fairytale, and Trowa didn't belong in it. Quatre Raberba Winner would never, ever be permitted to have that sort of relationship.

So he was angry at Zechs because he'd given him a dose of reality. And a few infuriating hints about something he knew to do with Trowa. It wasn't as if Trowa could ever have done anything awful. By now, Heero and Rashid would have had plenty of time to run background checks on him; if they'd found anything, there was no way he'd still be in Trowa's company.

It was just Zechs being his usual annoying self.

Probably.

'_Give yourself this one night and go back to your real life in the morning.'_

That was what he'd said.

One perfect night, Quatre thought wistfully. Just the two of them. Was that such an awful thing to want? He didn't know, really, if Trowa even wanted more than that.

The sensible thing, the thing that Quatre Raberba Winner would have done without even thinking about it, would have been to call Rashid and just walk away. There was no way that he and Trowa could ever have any sort of a future together. Far, far better to nip this infatuation in the bud. Better for both of them.

Cat, on the other hand, made a face at Zechs' car, zooming off down the street, and ran downstairs to Trowa. It was stupid, but he'd made a wish that night on his hotel balcony, and then he'd met Trowa.

That had to count for something.

When he pushed open the door to the shop, Trowa looked up with an expression that was a jumble of concern, affection and uncertainty.

'Since your friend left with Duo rather than you, can I assume there's nothing between you?'

'There isn't. I swear.'

Trowa smiled, just a little twist of his lips, but it was enough.

'It's nothing like that.'

'Good.' There were too many people in the shop for any major physical contact, but Trowa gave his hand a slight squeeze. 'Sorry, but Zechs is rather…visually impressive, and you obviously couldn't wait to get him alone.'

'It was nothing like that. He's, well, he's the sort of person who likes to embarrass his friends and I'd rather you didn't hear about all the foolish things I've ever done in my entire life.'

'I'd love to hear all of those things,' Trowa teased. 'Now, should I be prepared for any more Greek God types to turn up out of the blue and abduct what's left of my staff?'

'I think it's safe enough,' Quatre decided. 'Heero won't be here until the morning and I don't really have any other friends.'

'I find that impossibly hard to believe.' Trowa turned away to direct a couple of teenage girls to the Stephanie Meyers section. 'Why does someone like you not have dozens of friends?'

'Because I have a pretty sad, pathetic life at home,' Quatre admitted honestly. 'I just finished my MBA last year; before that I didn't really do anything but work and study. And now I just work. I've known Heero for years; his stepfather does contract work for my family, and Heero did some work experience with us before he started university. I don't really know Zechs that well; he's Heero's friend more than mine.'

That was true, in a way. Zechs didn't, obviously, consider him any sort of friend at the moment and he and Heero had always got on. 'How do you know him?'

'He used to date a friend of mine.' Trowa didn't sound too happy about it, and then smiled at two small girls who were approaching the counter, books in hand.

The next couple of hours were busy. Trowa greeted most of the customers by name, and there were introductions and discussions on the relative merits of JK Rowling and Phillip Pullman. It was fun.

'You said you liked Italian,' Trowa remarked later as they walked upstairs, shop locked up and the day's takings tallied. It felt good; like going home. 'I make a pretty good spaghetti and meatballs. How does that sound?'

'Really great. Can I help?'

Trowa unlocked the door, ushering him in. 'Most definitely. You've just been promoted from shop assistant to apprentice chef. You know how to cook, right?'

'Oh, yes. Mostly Asian, though. Heero taught me; we cook sometimes in his apartment.'

'Hmmm. As long as you don't do anything else in his apartment I can live with that.' He handed Quatre a chopping board and a knife. 'The tomatoes are in the bottom drawer of the fridge. Tell me about Heero. What else do you guys do together?' He kissed Quatre quickly on the lips. 'I'm not being jealous. I'm just trying to imagine your life; what your best friend is like.'

'You'll be meeting him tomorrow. He's very intense, very focused on his career. He runs his own IT company, and I love computers so we do a lot of geeky stuff. He's really into all sorts of martial arts and fencing; that's something else we do together when we have time.'

'You fence, really? Zorro stuff?'

Quatre laughed. 'Something like that. I love it. What else do we do? We watch movies and we go horse-riding sometimes and drive out into the desert and hike. Have I chopped enough tomatoes yet?'

'That's plenty.' Trowa glanced up from shaping meatballs. 'Can you do some garlic next? And some basil? You might need to go up to the roof to pick the basil.'

'OK.' The sun was just starting to go down, streaks of crimson painting the sky. Utterly breathtaking. Quatre stroked the white cat, curled up in a patch of late afternoon sunlight, and carefully selected a handful of herbs. A perfect, perfect moment, with Trowa downstairs waiting for him.

Oh dear. All of this was so very addictive, and so unattainable. No. He'd achieved it in a purely temporary sense. It was just non-sustainable.

Trowa was sautéing onions and garlic when he went back down; it smelt delicious.

'Hey, what kept you?'

'I was looking at the sky. And talking to Mallow.'

'I'm surprised she's not down here already. Normally she smells meat and she's trying to climb into the pan. Can I get you to open a bottle of red? Corkscrew in the drawer at your elbow; glasses in the cupboard by the door.'

'No problem. Anything else I can do.'

'Pretty much done now.' Trowa transferred the onion mixture to a large pot, added the chopped tomatoes and herbs and a couple of jars of sauce, and proceeded to drop in his meatballs. 'Sit down and talk to me.'

'OK.' Quatre took a sip of wine; not something he usually drank. Not that he ever drank alcohol at all, really. 'So what else do you like doing apart from cooking and reading?'

'Let's see. I like cute blond guys.' He grinned, taking a packet of spaghetti out of a cupboard. 'I like outdoorsy stuff; I go hiking a lot when I have time, and I do some volunteer conservation work at the national park outside the city. I love animals; I'd really like a dog but I don't have the space here. I've got a motorbike that Duo says is the love of my life.'

'You've got a bike? Really? I've never been on a motorbike.'

'I'll take you for a ride tomorrow if you want. Right. That'll take about an hour and a half to cook. We can take the wine and some garlic bread up to the roof. How does that sound?'

'Like paradise,' Quatre exclaimed extravagantly, making a sudden decision. He could give himself the gift of this one, perfect night. Reality could wait until morning. He'd tell Trowa then.

'A loaf of bread, a jug of wine and thou,' Trowa quoted, smiling. 'You can take the radio up if you want some music. I sort of like silence after being in the shop all day.'

'Silence is nice,' Quatre agreed, heading for the terrace. 'I really, really like it up here.'

'It's great, isn't it?' Trowa looked pleased. 'My aunt used to have it really nice. She had all sorts of flowers in pots and a little water feature. I let it go for the first few years after she died, I just didn't have time to maintain it and I ended up keeping a pile of junk here. Duo and I cleared it a couple of summers ago and I come up here all the time if the weather's good.'

'I like it,' Quatre repeated idly, running one finger up the stem of his glass.

'Yeah.' Trowa put his own glass down, green eyes intent on blue. 'How long's it been now? Since I kissed you?'

'Too long.' Trowa tasted of wine and his own sauce. The kiss was gentle at the start, very sweet and tentative, and ripened slowly, deliciously into a tangle of tongues and the occasional nip or nibble.

'You're lovely.' Trowa drew back slightly. 'If we keep doing this, I'm going to get distracted and forget all about dinner.'

'Do you like pizza?' Quatre nuzzled into his neck, licking the warm, firm skin. 'I love it.'

'Pizza is good.' Trowa's head fell back as Quatre's lips found a little cluster of nerves at his throat. 'Oh, God. Keep doing that.'

'I plan to.' His partner was totally, utterly perfect, Quatre decided, sliding both hands under Trowa's shirt and exploring the firm, flat stomach. The man groaned, deep in his throat as Quatre's fingers searched out one nipple and tweaked gently.

'Do you like that?'

'I like pretty much everything,' Trowa practically purred.

'Do you like this?' Quatre slipped off his own chair to kneel between Trowa's legs, palming the heat of his erection through the faded blue denims, before sliding the zipper down.

He'd done this to strangers in darkened rooms; in unmarked houses that were only known to certain people. Strangers who'd wiped themselves down hastily and left, sometimes with a brief word of thanks. He'd rushed home, sure that someone would recognise him, and swearing he'd never do anything like that again.

It was different with Trowa. There was sunlight and a slight breeze ruffling his hair and Trowa's low laugh as Quatre teased him with tiny kisses and Trowa's gasp when he was finally swallowed deep. Trowa's hands were touching him, caressing him,

'Wow.' Trowa whispered it almost reverently. 'That was quite the appetiser.'

'Something light to whet the appetite and tempt the palate?' Quatre managed. He was so hard it almost hurt; he'd almost come just from the look of pure ecstasy on Trowa's face.

'Oh, my palate has been well and truly tempted.' Trowa tipped him gently backwards onto the sun-warmed paving slabs. He could feel rays of sunlight on his skin when Trowa slid off his t-shirt; there were delicate feathery leaves from some plant tickling his face. 'God, you're lovely. I want to see you properly.' His fingers toyed with the first button of Quatre's – Duo's – jeans. 'Can I take these off?'

'Please. Please Trowa.'

'Please Trowa what?' Those long, knowing fingers danced over the buttons, flicking them loose.

'Please…_anything_.'

'Lots of scope there.' Trowa sounded pleased. He pulled off Quatre's jeans and briefs and just looked at him, drinking in every detail. 'My God. I can't believe this. It's like you just dropped out of the sky and now I've got you here and you're so fucking gorgeous.'

'I'm not.' Quatre squirmed uncomfortably under that devouring gaze, the caressing tone of the compliments. He wasn't remotely gorgeous. He'd inherited his dead mother's looks; pale skin and blond hair and blue eyes. All utterly out of place on L4.

'Don't you ever dare to say that again, you hear me? You're so beautiful I'm scared to death I'll wake up at any second and just remember this guy I met in a dream?'

'I'm not a dream.' Quatre shivered slightly. He was, in a way. Cat, the person Trowa liked, didn't exist. And Trowa wouldn't be interested in Quatre Raberba Winner, with his neatly parted hair, and his conservative suits, and his inability to control his own destiny.

'You're cold?'

Quatre shivered again; this time from Trowa's lips on his skin and arched his whole body up to meet that generous, gifted mouth. 'Not cold, no. That feels incredible.'

'You don't feel like a dream when you do that.'

'I'm not a dream.' After, Quatre wasn't quite sure whether he'd spoken the words again, or just thought them, as a brief prayer. There was only Trowa's body, caressing his, and sunshine, and his body exploding in a starburst of joy.

They ate dinner – miraculously unburnt – curled on the swing seat, trading kisses in between mouthfuls of food and wine. The sky was deep, dusky grape colour by then; just dark enough to see the first stars.

Quatre made a wish, the way he always did on Earth, and agreed with Trowa that it was getting a little chilly and they should probably go back inside.

He hadn't really noticed Trowa's bedroom before; it was nice. There was a dark, forest-green duvet set on the bed, and matching curtains, and someone – Duo presumably- had painted glowing constellations on the ceiling.

Quatre sat against the headboard, naked under the green duvet and waited for Trowa to come out of the shower.

He was going to have sex with this man.

'OK?' Trowa closed the door behind him, still towelling his hair, and looking at Quatre's face. 'No second thoughts or anything?'

'Only first thoughts. And I really, really want to be with you.' That one simple question; the fact that Trowa had cared enough to ask, annihilated any last, lingering doubts.

'And I really want to be with you.' The towel was tossed off into a corner. Trowa didn't seem to be remotely self-conscious about nudity, pulling the curtains closed, and rummaging in his dresser.

He was a mass of contradictions. It was hard to reconcile so many different facets of one person. He could be diffident sometimes, even a little shy, and then take control like he'd been born to it. He had a smile that could illuminate Quatre's existence, but when he'd first seen Zechs his whole face had become a grim, emotionless mask. He'd held little children on his lap in the shop and read them Dr. Seuss stories, and he'd half killed those men outside the club who'd wanted to hurt Quatre.

'Hey. Come here.' Trowa slid under the duvet and gathered Quatre into his arms. 'I know you had a horrible experience last night, but I swear I won't do anything you don't want. You just tell me when you're not comfortable with something and I'll slow down, OK? We've got all night. No need to rush things.'

'It's just....it's been a while since I've been with someone.'

'That's OK.' The kiss was very tender; a reassurance. A part of Quatre's brain noted that he hadn't made a similar disclaimer. Well, someone like Trowa would never need to be exactly celibate.

'It's OK,' Trowa repeated. 'You know what I really want to do first? I want to kiss you all over and see if you're ticklish anywhere, and where I can touch you to make you groan out loud and maybe shout my name. Is that all right?'

'Oh, yes.' Oh, yes, he'd agree to anything with that husky, honey-sweet voice murmuring in his ear. And those hands on him.

Quatre took a deep breath, the way Heero had taught him, to relax and gave himself up to being loved. It was easy. At one point, he reached up to caress Trowa in turn and the other man kissed his hands and slid them back to the mattress, saying it would be Quatre's turn later.

'Can you turn over, baby?' He didn't even have to make the effort himself; Trowa moved him gently on to his stomach and began the most blissfully mind-blowing backrub ever.

'You're a little bit tense, still,' he noted. 'There's nothing to worry about. I just want to make you feel really, really good.'

'I do. That feels wonderful.'

'Good.' Trowa pressed a kiss to the back of his neck, one hand kneading his shoulder muscles and the other drifted downwards, moulding itself to the curves of Quatre's buttocks. 'You have the cutest ass.' One finger trailed between his cleft, teasing his entrance and Quatre froze.

'OK.' Trowa's voice was dense with disappointment, but he dropped another kiss between Quatre's shoulderblades – a place where he'd never been kissed before. 'That was a pretty clear signal to back off.'

'Sorry.' Quatre burrowed his burning face into the pillow. 'I'm really sorry. It was just a bit ….unexpected, that's all.'

'Cat,' Trowa turned him back over, tilting his chin with one hand so he had to meet those green eyes. 'We're in bed together, we're naked, we're both planning on having sex. Is it really that much of a surprise that I touched you there?'

'I suppose not,' Quatre muttered. 'Look, I said I was sorry. I'll be fine the next time you do that, I promise.'

'Right. I think maybe we need a little talk before we do anything else. Is it because of last night?'

There it was; the perfect excuse, just handed to him. Quatre didn't take it. In this thing, at least, he would be honest. It wasn't remotely that he'd forgotten the experience. He'd jumped a couple of times in the shop when someone had touched him unexpectedly, or man had come closer than he'd realised. If he let his thoughts drift for a minute, he remembered the look in those men's eyes, and the paralysing fear and then the sudden jolt of pain. No one had ever hurt him deliberately in his whole life until then.

But that bore utterly no resemblance to whatever was between him and Trowa, so he shook his head. 'No. That was different. I …do want you.'

'Just not right now.' Trowa's expression was hard to read. A bit of frustration mixed in with sympathy and concern. Well, he probably thought that Quatre was still affected by the almost-rape, whatever he said. Oh, the irony. 'You've been with other people, right?'

'Yes, I'm not a virgin.' He didn't even have that shred of an excuse. 'Like I said, it's been a long time. It's – different on L4. I've slept with total strangers. I haven't done it very often and most of the time it wasn't even about the sex. It was just about having the chance to touch someone, to hold them for a few minutes, when I was feeling really lonely or depressed. Does that sound awful?'

'No.' Trowa sat up, hugging him close. 'It makes perfect sense. I've only ever been in love once, properly. Since he left, I've had one night stands, for all the reasons you've said.'

Quatre nodded. 'I'm sorry, but this just doesn't seem like one of those encounters. Not to me anyway.'

'I know.' Trowa rested his forehead against Quatre's. 'So what do we do? You do want to be with me at some point, right?'

'Oh, yes. Just maybe not tonight. Are you furious?'

'Shall I be honest or tactful here?' He was smiling, unbelievably. 'I won't lie to you. You were honest and I really, really appreciate that. I've been messed around before, and I love that you're being frank with me. We can postpone the sex for a day or so and see how things go. But,' he lifted one of Quatre's hands to his mouth and licked the palm, 'you've spent most of the day getting me all hot and bothered. I assume you're planning to help me work off a bit of steam?'


	11. Wicked

**Many thanks to KS for editing, and to everyone who has been reviewing.**

**Wicked:**

Quatre slowly spiralled to consciousness wrapped in the firm embrace of Trowa's body. Fingers were tracing slow patterns on his back. It felt amazing.

_Please, please let it not be time to get up._

Trowa liked to sleep with his curtains open. Quatre cracked one eyelid open. It wasn't daylight yet, quite, but it definitely wasn't dark.

He didn't want to wake up, or for Trowa to stop holding him like that. It was safe here; a place where he didn't have to be Quatre Raberba Winner. He cuddled a little bit closer, burrowing into Trowa's shoulder.

The other man chuckled, tightening both arms around Quatre's waist. 'I've no intention of letting you go anytime soon. Don't worry. How did you sleep?'

'Like a crocodile,' Quatre said promptly. 'Um, like a log, I mean.'

Trowa laughed again, a nice, rumbly sound in his chest. 'Is that what you say on L4; sleep like a crocodile? Do they really sleep all that soundly?'

'I don't know. I can't imagine anyone ever wanting to get close enough to check, can you?'

'Good point,' Trowa mumbled. 'Mmm. Nice to wake up to a naked blond sprawled all over me. I could get used to this.'

'I've never actually slept naked before,' the blond sprawled over him murmured dreamily, and Trowa's eyes widened.

'What do you wear then?'

'Pyjamas. Sleeping in the nude is considered indecent on L4.'

Trowa snorted, running one hand down Quatre's back. 'What's the point in getting dressed up to go to bed? If you ever wear pyjamas into my bed, I'll rip them off you.'

'I might like that,' Quatre teased.

'Kinky little thing, aren't you? Do you have some sort of slaveboy fantasy going on? 'Cause I kind of like that. Let's see, I can just imagine you in loose silk pants, those baggy ones and a skimpy little tank top.' His eyes sparkled and suddenly Quatre was the one lying on the bottom, with a very hard, hot male body covering him.

He tried to pull away as Trowa's lips fastened on to his neck and began to suck and got a light swat for his trouble. Oh, God, he was going to have to face his sister covered in love bites. She'd kill him. Well, no, Rashid would stop her actually committing violence, but she'd yell at him and threaten to tell their father, and tell him it was a good thing that their mother was dead, so she didn't have to see her son behaving like this.

'Oh, yeah,' Trowa's mouth began a leisurely, luxurious journey downwards, scraping his teeth against Quatre's collarbone and scattering nips and kisses on the way, apparently caught up in his little harem fantasy.

'A silky little top that I'd have to rip off so I could see you properly. Mmm. See these properly.' That hot, moist, miraculous mouth settled around one nipple, tongue swirling into a stiff little peak, aching for more of those touches. Quatre arched upwards, his whole body a taut arc of desire and Trowa lifted his head slightly to laugh at him, a puff of warm breath blowing across Quatre's skin. 'I love that you're so sensitive there. I bet I could get you to come if I played with these for long enough.'

A finger and thumb found the other, neglected bud and plucked gently as his mouth bit down on sensitive skin. 'Like turning on a switch,' he marvelled. 'OK, memo to Barton; Cat gets really, really turned on by this sort of thing. Of course,' he added, eyes dancing with mischief, 'Cat gets pretty turned on by lots of stuff.'

'Trowa!' OK, this had gone on for quite long enough. Teasing was fine, in its place, but this was _too_ much. 'Please!'

'So, you ready to let me have my wicked way with you now?'

'Um, define 'way',' Quatre hedged. He wanted to. Really. But first he would have to tell Trowa who he really was. This silly little deception had gone on for long enough. He should have just told Trowa the night before, and hoped for the best.

'I'll define 'wicked' first. Here, let me give you give a physical demo.' Trowa's eyes sparked emerald fire, and flipped Quatre around so his mouth, that perfect, beautiful mouth was just an inch or so away from Quatre's erection. Which effectively left Quatre's lips in close proximity that part of Trowa's own anatomy. One green eye winked. 'Feel free to reciprocate if you want.'

Ah. They'd had oral sex the night before; several times. Quatre's throat still ached, just a little, from deep-throating the other man. He hadn't had a huge amount of practice at that particular skill, and none at all lately. And Trowa was big. They hadn't done it together, though. He'd never done that with anyone.

It was too much, almost. Trowa's mouth on him, doing wicked, wondrous, utterly wanton things at the time that Trowa's sex was thrusting into his mouth, and Trowa was moaning with sheer pleasure.

'Yeah, that would be pretty much what I meant by _wicked_,' Trowa muttered later. Quite a bit later. Quatre was still floating. It was all so very intense with Trowa. He'd let the other man come in his mouth. He'd let Trowa lick him clean, and then kiss his mouth so Quatre could taste himself. He could spend the rest of his life in this bed, with this man, and die happy.

He groaned as Trowa kissed his mouth and then pulled away. 'Please don't get up. Can't we stay a little while longer? Please.'

'Sorry, Cat. Some of us have work to do. Listen, I've got to run some errands this morning. You can come with me, or I could drop you by your hotel to get your stuff.' He grinned. 'Not that _I_ object to you not having any clothes but I thought we might go out somewhere for the day. There's a really great National Park I could take you to, or we could go to the beach. What d'you fancy?'

'Um. I don't know. They both sound wonderful.'

'Demanding and indecisive. That's a bad combination. I suppose we might have time to do both if we get up now. Where's your hotel? I can drop you there to pack up your things, and then collect you on my way home.'

Quatre considered lying and then decided against it. 'I'm staying at the Sheraton. It's down by the harbour.'

Trowa whistled. 'How much is that costing you?'

'The reservation was made months ago, so I got a really good deal. Apparently, they slash the prices in low season.' Of course, they presumably slashed the prices all the time for corporate clients who wanted to reserve an entire floor.

The taller man nodded, bending down to pick up his jeans and giving Quatre a very nice view.

'Are they really important, these errands of yours? Are you sure I can't entice you back to bed?'

'I've created a monster,' Trowa commented, pulling on his sweater. 'Sorry, Cat. It's not that I don't want to, but I've got a couple of appointments lined up. Now, come on. Move that cute ass of yours.'

Quatre obeyed, grinning. This hadn't quite been part of the plan but that was all right. He could let Iria and Rashid and the others see he was fine, and tell his sister that things had changed slightly. He wasn't going to marry Relena. And he was planning to steal a little more time to be with Trowa.

She was going to kill him.

'God, it's an eyesore, isn't it?' Trowa remarked an hour later, pulling up outside the hotel's main entrance. 'You know, this is all supposed to be a historic district with listed buildings and then they got planning permission to build that monster. What's it like inside?'

'It's OK.' Strange; he'd spent four days there, and had no idea what colour his room was decorated in, or what the furnishings were like. After one night in Trowa's bedroom, he knew the ceiling had a crack shaped like Brazil, that one of the floorboards creaked slightly when you stood on it, and there was a cat hammock over the radiator.

'Now, do you want me to pick you up or catch a cab back home? I'm going to be a couple of hours though, so I could just meet you back at Wish if you'd rather not hang around here.'

Quatre nodded. 'That's fine. I'll call a taxi and I'll see you at the shop.' He'd turned away, heading for the imposing entrance when Trowa called him back.

'You'd better take this for the cab.' He was holding out a small sheaf of notes. No one, ever, had offered Quatre actual money before. 'I know you said you had an extra credit card in your room, but take this just in case, OK?' He grinned. 'I want to make sure you're not going to head off on foot again.'

Quatre waved him out of sight, inordinately grateful that there hadn't been a deputation of Maguanacs to meet him, and grinning at his reflection as he walked toward the doors. He looked so utterly unlike himself.

He was wearing the jeans he'd bought to go clubbing, and Trowa had lent him a light sweater. It was too big, of course, but it did a good job of hiding just how tight those jeans were, and the high collar concealed the scattering of love bites on his neck and throat. He' d messed up his hair as well, using some of Trowa's gel, and trying to copy the way Brian had done it.

He looked…almost cool.

The uniformed doorman apparently didn't think so however, casting a disparaging eye over the baggy sweater and messy hair.

'Excuse me. Sir.' The man hesitated slightly over the honorific. 'This entrance is for guests only.'

'Mister Winner is a guest!' Rashid al-Maguanac glared at the man who had the temerity to insult his employer, ushering Quatre inside, dark eyes widening as he saw his face.

'Master Quatre! Did that…that man do this to you?'

'No!' Quatre snapped. Oops. He'd almost forgotten the bruising; it had faded significantly since the first night, and he was more or less used to it now. 'He rescued me from the people who did this to me.'

The big man groaned. 'I promised your mother, before you were born, that I would protect you. We all took an oath. And we have failed.'

'You haven't failed anyone,' Quatre said, more gently. 'It was my own fault. I was stupid and I got into a bad situation. It's not your fault. And it all worked out; I got to meet Trowa.'

Rashid sniffed; a sound that would have been more appropriate for a maiden aunt. 'Auda ran a check on this man, Barton.'

'He had no right to do that.' Quatre knew the protest was forlorn even as he spoke; of course they would have checked Trowa. The Maguanacs vetted everyone he came into contact with. He hadn't really been aware of that until he was thirteen or so, when he'd been forbidden to spend time with a friend whose older sister was living with her boyfriend. 'What did you discover; that he's a serial kidnapper?'

'He has no criminal record,' Rashid said grudgingly. 'Which means nothing. Master Heero would say he has simply never been caught and convicted.'

Quatre rolled his eyes. 'Or possibly that he's never done anything wrong. Isn't that a possibility too?'

'His business is barely breaking even, he has hardly any savings, he owes a considerable sum of money to the bank.'

'So? The same could be said for ninety five per cent of the world's population. Trowa's fine, Rashid. I really like him.'

The big man nodded, not looking overly ecstatic about it. 'Your sister is furious. Not just with you; with me and my brothers also. She wanted us to bring you back here as soon as we found out where you were.'

'And you refused? Truly?' Quatre suddenly flung his arms around his bodyguard, the man he regarded as a second father. Rashid had never countermanded any of Iria's orders before, that he knew of. 'Thank you!'

Rashid patted his shoulder stiffly. 'You ordered us to leave you alone; you are old enough to know your own mind by now. A man needs to be able to find his own path. I can't approve of you taking off with this man, this stranger, but we all owe him a debt for helping you. Miss Iria, too.'

'I doubt she'll see it that way,' Quatre sighed.

She didn't, of course.

'Quatre! Your face!' Iria gaped at him as if he were a stranger when Rashid ushered him into her room. 'What are you doing in those awful clothes? And your hair! I hope nobody saw you looking like this.' Then she rushed forward and hugged him. 'I was so worried, little brother. You know how much I hate fighting with you. We're family; we need to stick together.'

She kissed him gently on the cheek. 'Your poor face. It's all right, my dear. I'm not going to be angry. We both said silly things last night, didn't we? But you're back now, and we can just forget it all.'

'I can't,' Quatre said quietly. 'I'm sorry I upset you, Iria. You know I don't like doing that. But there are some things we need to talk about. Firstly, I'm not _back_. I came to get some things, and to reassure you and Rashid and the others that I'm fine. I still mean what I told you on the 'phone. I need to take some time to myself and decide exactly what I want to do with my life.'

'You don't have that luxury. None of us do.' Iria's smiling mask slipped away instantly. 'Your life has already been planned, Quatre. You've always known that.'

'No. I am sorry, I truly am, but plans change. I'm not going to marry Relena.' There; he'd said it. The sky didn't fall in, although his sister did raise his eyes upwards. Just to check.

'Don't be silly. It's all arranged. We've talked about this, Quatre.'

'Actually, no.' Quatre sat down on one of the spindly little chairs, comparing it unfavourably to Trowa's deliciously overstuffed sofa. 'You talked about it.'

'Someone needs to make these decisions,' Iria hissed. 'Relena is a good, dutiful daughter, who knows how to fulfil her responsibilities. Unlike some. Have you thought about how this will hurt Father? You know perfectly well the doctors said he can't be upset or shocked. How do you think he will feel when he hears about you disobeying him like this?'

'He never ordered me to marry Relena. He refused an arranged marriage himself; he let the other girls choose their own husbands. As for the rest of it, don't tell him. You're always saying how worried you are for his health, but it never stops you running to him if I do any little thing wrong.'

'He's the head of our family. He has a right to know,' Iria spat. 'He has a right to know if his only son is planning to ignore our family's honour and take up with some pervert just because he's having a temper tantrum over not getting his own way in something.'

'Don't you dare talk about Trowa like that!' Quatre swallowed, suddenly realised he'd shouted at his sister. 'If it weren't for him, I could be lying in hospital right now. How would _that_ look in the papers; that I'd been beaten up after leaving a gay club? It wouldn't exactly do much for your precious family honour, would it?'

'Oh, grow up, Quatre.' His sister's tone was pure ice. 'It was your own fault that you were there, without bodyguards. You say you want to live in the real world; well, that's the sort of thing that happens when you try. There's no way you could survive. As for this man you've met, what do you expect me to do? Do you want me to arrange some sort of reward?'

'I don't want you to do anything. And he doesn't want a reward! Not everyone is obsessed with money, believe it or not.'

'Oh, but they are. You just don't know it.'

'I'm not a little boy any more. I'm twenty three, Iria. For the past five years, I have done nothing but work for Winner Enterprises. I've done everything that was expected of me, and I've never once complained. If you think I'm going to sit in the CEO's office, and do everything you tell me, then I'm sorry, but that won't happen. I'm old enough to make my own decisions about my life and I'm sorry, but I'm not going to marry Relena.'

'It's necessary,' Iria started and he glared at her.

'No, it's not. The people of Sanque don't care about whether I'm gay or not. I'm sure they'd consider it much more of a slight to them if I married their princess and then they found out about me.'

'It's illegal on L4, to live that sort of lifestyle.'

'Technically, yes.' He took a deep breath. 'You know perfectly well that there are plenty of people who do live that sort of lifestyle, but they also have wives and children so they can look respectable. I'm not going to do that.'

'I don't know what you're talking about,' Iria said flatly. 'Are you ill? Did you hit your head last night, to be talking this sort of nonsense? Perhaps I should call a doctor.'

'I'm not ill! I'm perfectly well, and I've come to my senses about a few things.'

'What makes you so special?' his sister demanded. 'What makes you think you're entitled to have a choice? None of the rest of us did. The other girls may not have been forced into marriage, but they knew their duty and chose their husbands according to Father's wishes. And what choice did _I_ ever have, little brother? After Mother died, someone had to stay at home and run the household and help with the little ones.'

'I'm sorry, Irry.' It was years since he'd used that old nickname. 'I don't think I'm special. I know I'll have to spend my life working for WEI; I've always known that. I just don't see why it should rule every aspect of who I am. Is it so wrong to want to be happy?'

She sighed, blond head bowed, and then sat up straight. 'Fine. It looks like you've made your decision. How long is this absurd disappearing act of yours going to go on for?'

'I'm hardly _disappearing_,' Quatre said dryly. 'You know where I am; I'll have my 'phone if you need to contact me.' He touched his bruised cheek. 'Seriously, I just need some time to think. It's better if I'm not around anyway, not while I look like this.'

'You will call every day?'

'Absolutely.' He stood and hugged her. 'It's just for a couple of days, Irry. That's all I'm asking for; a little bit of time before I'm appointed CEO and I have to spend the rest of my life in the spotlight, being perfect.'

She hugged him back tightly. 'All right. But be careful, dear. For all our sakes. And be discreet.'

'Of course.' Quatre almost danced back to his suite. He'd done it. For the first time ever, he'd stood up to Iria and won. He'd won himself a little extra time with Trowa. That was enough, for now.

He had just placed his violin and laptop by the door when someone knocked and Heero Yuy stepped inside. He gave Quatre a long, evaluating stare and shook his head reprovingly. 'I thought I'd taught you better than that. You need a refresher course.'

'There were six of them,' Quatre said meekly.

'Hn. Don't make excuses for your own shortcomings. You obviously let them get too close.'

'I did.' Quatre swallowed, abruptly remembering. 'I was stupid. God, Heero, they almost…'

'They didn't.' Heero, who never did touchy-feely things, give him an abrupt, crushing hug. 'Now, what exactly is going on?'

'I'm packing.' Quatre threw open his closet doors and shook his head at the neat rows of smart suits in dark colours. He hadn't chosen any of them; the family tailor simply delivered a new batch of garments every month or so. He slammed the doors shut again. 'On second thoughts, no, I'm not. I hate all my clothes. Do you want to come shopping with me? There are shops on the ground floor of the hotel.'

Heero, a man of few words, nodded. 'I talked to Rashid. You're going back to this man?'

'For a while, yes.' Quatre picked up his violin case, deciding he didn't really want anything else. Even the book he'd been reading was an economic analysis on the European Economy; he'd have more fun reading fantasy books at Trowa's. 'Iria's already told me what a fool I am. Are you going to start?'

Heero opened the door, leading the way down the corridor to the lifts. 'I'm sure your sister's said it all. Do you really trust him this much?'

'I really do.' Quatre dropped his voice. 'I like him a lot.'

His friend nodded again. 'Then he must have something going for him. What sort of clothes do you want to buy?'

'I don't know. Something casual? Nothing like I normally wear.'

'Something to match the hair?'

'I suppose.' Quatre grinned; everything suddenly seemed brighter. He'd actually argued with Iria and won, more or less, and he had Heero with him, and he had a whole day to spend with Trowa. Several days, maybe, if Trowa didn't decide to sling him out for hiding his identity.

Shopping for clothes turned out to be fun. Heero got into the spirit of things once Quatre insisted he couldn't just stand around and watch but had to try on some clothes himself. And Quatre loved every minute of it. His friend turned out to have a surprisingly good eye for what suited them both and all his choices were perfect. A deliciously soft pair of suede jeans, a teal-green leather jacket that brought out the green in Quatre's eyes, and a couple of fitted cashmere t-shirts.

In the end, he had to buy a couple of cases to carry all his purchases; it would look odd to turn up at Wish with a pile of carrier bags.

In the last shop, Quatre picked out a new outfit to wear and changed in the fitting room. Stone-coloured linen trousers and lambswool sweater in a soft shade of blue. It was maybe a bit dressy for a hike, but it felt so good and he looked quite nice. He mussed up his hair a little bit and stuck his head around the door for Heero's verdict.

Heero studied him, and then shook his head. 'You're missing something. Wait a sec.'

Quatre retreated behind the door. Oh dear. Maybe he looked stupid after all. He never wore clothes like this. Perhaps he just wasn't cool enough to carry off an outfit like this.

'Quatre? Try these.' Heero opened the door and shoved a handful of items at him. A very cool pair of wrap-around shades, and a bracelet of plaited leather. 'You're supposed to have the whole 'look',' he explained, a little self-consciously. 'That's better.'

Quatre studied himself in the mirror, marvelling at his best friend's sudden transformation into fashion guru. When had that happened? 'Do I really look all right? Not like me?'

'You don't look like you,' Heero said instantly. 'It's not the clothes. You look happy, like you enjoy life. You haven't looked like that for a long time.'

'I haven't, have I?' Quatre echoed. 'I can't believe this is happening, Heero. I don't even know what I'm doing, not really. Am I totally insane? Iria wanted to know if I had some sort of concussion!'

That made Heero laugh. 'Well, you are acting very out of character. It's good to see you smiling properly. I think he's been good for you, this man.'

'Trowa.' Quatre said it softly, savouring the sound. 'He's wonderful, Heero. He treats me like a normal person.' He twisted the bracelet around his wrist. 'Um, I haven't actually told him who I am. I'm planning to, today. He's taking me hiking to a park; would you like to come and meet him first?'

'I'd better find somewhere to stay first,' Heero yawned suddenly. 'And maybe sleep for a couple of hours. Getting here was a total nightmare; the shuttle was diverted to London and then I had to catch three connecting flights. This bloody country has hardly any air connections.'

'I'm so sorry. It's my fault that you had to come here, and now I'm leaving you alone when you just get here. I can call Trowa and ask him if we can go tomorrow. Or maybe you could come with us?'

'Don't be an idiot. You don't want me tagging along. Perhaps we could meet for dinner?'

'Of course!' Quatre said instantly, guilt bubbling in his veins at the hopeful way his friend had asked the last question. He'd been neglecting Heero terribly, lately. There had always been a deadline or a business trip or a new project to take up his time. No wonder he didn't have any friends. And Heero had still flown halfway across the universe to be with him, because he'd been worried. 'Please. I'd love you to meet Trowa. And we can do something together tomorrow, just the two of us, if you'd like?'

Heero gave him one of his quick, almost invisible smiles and Quatre vowed that he was going to be a better friend in future.

'Actually, I have an idea. If I'm staying with Trowa, why don't you take my suite here? Someone might as well use it.' He dug into his pocket and produced his pass-card and one of the cards for Wish. 'This is the bookshop address. I'm sure Rashid won't mind driving you over later. I'll ask Trowa what time we should be home and we can all go and have dinner together. Is that OK?'

'Fine.


	12. It's Raining Men

Disclaimer: I do not, regrettably, own the GW characters, nor make money from writing

**It's Raining Men:**

Duo was running late on Monday morning; late enough that he had to take the tram instead of cycling. A seriously sucky start to the week. He went through the usual morning rituals – make coffee, feed fish, water plants, drink coffee – at top speed, and only slowed down when it came to locking up. That was too important to rush; he'd had his own place for nearly nine months, which wasn't quite long enough for the shiny novelty of it all to have worn off.

His own place. It was a bit sad, and he'd never tell anyone, but he got a massive thrill out of shutting the door behind him when he left, locking up his own little world to keep it safe, and then coming home and knowing that things would be just where he'd left them.

In a weird way, he still thought of Trowa's apartment over the shop as 'home', but this place was his sanctuary. The rent cost more than the budget he and Tro had initially worked out between them, but he didn't have any other major expenses, and he was getting more and more art commissions these days.

Once he'd seen the sunny, open-plan apartment for the first time, he'd wanted it; really wanted it. Trowa had lent him some of the deposit money and the two of them had trawled through garage sales and second-hand places until it was all cosy, like a real home.

Utterly perfect in Duo's opinion.

He gave the key one last twist in the lock, patted the gleaming front door – there had been a couple of cans of paint left after decorating Wish - affectionately and ran.

Normally, he tried not to use public transport during the week; not at peak hours anyway. It was just too crowded, and reminded him of things he tried, most of the time, to forget.

When he'd first arrived in Sanque, a bus or train of tram full of people had been his happy hunting ground, full of prosperous people, and there was always some idiot with a handbag hanging open, or a wallet thrust carelessly into a back pocket.

It wasn't like he'd wanted that sort of life for himself; it was the reason he'd left L2 in the first place. Trouble was, he'd stowed away on a shuttle, and arrived illegally, and Sanque had strict laws on employing illegal immigrants. The very few employers who were willing to flout the law generally weren't the sort of people you wanted to work for. Duo had tried a few places; at some point, you got fucked over and dismissed after a week's work with no pay, or else the boss intimated very strongly that payment would be forthcoming only after another sort of fucking.

No thanks.

Duo had tried to do the Robin Hood thing; only stealing from people who looked like they could afford to lose a few bucks. Which sort of made practical sense anyway; what was the point in stealing from an impoverished student or road-sweeper?

He'd been a damn good pick-picket as well. He still sometimes messed with Trowa's head by pinching his wallet or keys or whatever and putting them in a different pocket. It was nice not to have to do it for a living though.

Duo caught his tram courtesy of a wild leap that earned him several disapproving looks and a lecture from the driver. No chance of a seat, of course but that was OK. It was only twenty minutes.

Duo grinned at himself in the mirror; life was weird. He was crammed into this tin box with a load of other sweaty commuters, all yawning their way to work on a Monday morning, and the previous night, he'd been wined and dined and driven around like a prince. By an actual freaking prince, if you could believe that.

Well, no, he wasn't really. But his ancestors had been royalty in Sanque, even if the country was now a republic and Zechs still had some sort of title; baron or count of something like that. And plenty of moolah obviously.

It had been a weird kind of evening. Duo reached out one finger and drew the word Zechs in the condensation on the window pane. He didn't like to be called Milliardo, which was fair enough. Who would?

He was a _catch_; that was how Hilde would describe someone like him. Hot and loaded and oozing charm and breeding and sophistication.

Not really Duo's type, although he wasn't quite sure what his type actually was. Bookish guys who owned bookshops maybe. Hilde always said he was way too picky when it came to going out with anyone and she was probably right. The trouble was, prospective boyfriends tended to get measured against Solo, the _memory_ of Solo, and Trowa, and usually came out lacking.

How could they not? Solo was the person who'd kept him alive, the first person he'd ever loved. And Trowa had given him a job and a place to live and the precious gift of his friendship. It didn't hurt that the guy looked like a one-eyed wet dream either.

He'd never met anyone who came close to how either of them made him feel.

Of course, he'd never met anyone quite like Zechs before. He'd never been whisked away from work in a Ferrari, which he'd wanted so badly to drive, even to sit in the driver's seat for a second and put his hands on the wheel and pretend, like a little kid, but Zechs hadn't offered, and Duo hadn't wanted to ask straight out.

They'd stopped outside one of the super-fancy restaurants on the harbour-front, and Zechs had just tossed the keys to some uniformed guy, like in a movie, and led Duo inside. It was the sort of place they probably wouldn't have let him in by himself, but you got the feeling that Zechs did whatever he wanted. He'd bally-ragged the head waiter guy into giving them a table by the windows and it was only when they finally sat down and got their menus that Duo had realised it was a sushi place.

Barf.

Even when he'd been living rough on the streets, Duo hadn't been able to bring himself to stomach raw fish.

Zechs had been apologetic as hell, and wanted to go somewhere else, but Duo insisted it was fine, that he'd just eat rice and vegetables. He'd tried a couple of fishy things, but they'd been uberly gross, even doused with that spicy sauce.

Apart from the food, it had been an OK night. He'd had a couple of Japanese beers and told Zechs a little bit of edited stuff about himself, and listened a lot more to Zechs talking about himself. He still wasn't quite sure whether the blond had picked up on the fact that Duo wasn't all that comfortable talking about his past to a stranger, or whether he was his own number one topic of conversation.

He'd tried not to feel uncomfortable at the way Zechs was looking at him, like a particularly juicy piece of salmon or whatever.

After the meal, as soon as they were in that sweet, sweet car, Zechs had propositioned him, very smoothly and charmingly. Duo had turned him down, bluntly and a bit awkwardly.

Things had all gone sort of shitty at that point. Zechs had taken one hand off the wheel and placed in on Duo's knee, and told him not to be such a tease. Duo had removed the hand, very definitely, along with a little twist of the wrist to show that he was serious.

The bloody man had just laughed and said enough was enough; they both knew perfectly well what was going to happen and that Duo could stop playing hard to get.

At which point Duo had lost it. He'd met these sorts of guys before. They put together the equation of long hair and L2 accent and fitted clothes, and came up with the solution that they all meant someone who was gagging for it, or would at least put on a good performance if the money was right.

Admittedly, Zechs had apologised profusely, and said he'd misread Duo's signals.

The drive back to Duo's place had been the best part of the evening. Zechs had stopped trying to impress him and they just talked a bit. He'd apologised again, before letting Duo out, and given him a quick kiss on the cheek. It had been sort of nice, that kiss. Zechs smelled great, and his hair had whispered against Duo's cheek and his lips had been very gentle.

He hadn't, obviously, offered to stay in touch.

Which was sort of a shame. He hadn't been that bad, and he _was_ gorgeous.

Still, you only got one chance with someone like that. The world was probably full of hot guys climbing over each other to get into bed with Zechs. No way would he want to waste time on the one who didn't.

Oh well. He'd always be able to say he'd dated a prince –sort of- for one night. That was cool.

Trowa was at the bookshop when Duo walked in, which was unusual. Monday morning was normally his time for running around and doing errands.

'I'm on my way out,' he said, in answer to his look of surprise. 'I forgot my card for the Cash and Carry.'

'Oh, right. Where's Cat?'

'I just dropped him back at his hotel. He had to get his stuff; he's getting a cab back here.'

'Mmm hmmm. So he's going to stay for a bit?' Duo plonked down in a beanbag and looked up at him curiously. This, all of it, was way out of character. Waifs and strays, both of the human and animal kind, got brought home and kept until they could be re-homed. Of course, some of them, like him and the cats, got kept.

Boyfriends, on the other, hand, tended to be kept below radar. Duo knew damn well he wasn't celibate; but boyfriends came and went all the time, and didn't get absorbed into his actual life.

Trowa Barton, master of compartmentalisation, just didn't do cross-overs. Duo had been kept firmly in the 'stray' category until his promotion to 'friend'. That was how it worked.

Blondie was getting him to break all the rules.

'For a while, yes.' Trowa flicked his hair back, blasting me with both eyes at once. 'Is that a problem? I thought you liked him.'

'I do. But you hardly know him. I mean, he seems a nice guy, but do you know, actually know, anything about him? I tried asking Zechs last night, and he was really evasive, and said he didn't know him that well either.'

'He _doesn't_ know him that well,' Trowa said, a bit defensively. 'I asked Cat about it. Their mothers used to friends, that's all.'

Duo nodded. Zechs had told him that much last night. It had been a surprise that the friend of Tro's new rescue project happened to be a prince, no less, but Zechs had said that mothers had been friends as young girls. Duo remembered reading somewhere that Zechs' mother had just been a normal person who'd made it as a model and ended up bagging an aristocrat for a husband.

'Look, Tro. I get that you like this guy. Hard not to, right? I just think you should maybe get to know him a bit better. Hell, it's like he just appeared out of nowhere, and now he's suddenly moving in with you.'

'He's only staying for a few days,' Trowa said tetchily. 'You saw what those bastards did to him. He needs somewhere to rest up for a while. And his wallet was stolen; it'll probably take a couple of days for him to sort that out.'

'And you're bankrolling him in the meantime?'

'Duo! It's not like that. Stop making him out to be some sort of freeloader. He's staying at the Sheraton; he obviously has money.'

Duo whistled. 'I'm sorry, OK? I just don't want you to get hurt.' He didn't need to say _again_. The word hovered in the air; five almost tangible letters hanging between them.

'I know.' Trowa sighed heavily. 'Sorry I snapped. I just …. like him a lot. And I know he's only going to be here for a few days, but I want to spend as much time with him as I can. Maybe we could try some sort of long distance thing if we still like each other.'

'Right.' Duo tried to sound positive and encouraging, just to get Trowa to smile. For a realist, he was prone to occasional bouts of wishful thinking. Sure, he could carry on a relationship with a guy who lived on the other side of the galaxy, in a place where it was illegal to be gay. Shit. 'That would be cool. So d'you guys have plans for today?'

Trowa nodded. 'If you don't mind holding the fort here, I thought we'd drive up to Lake Nova for a hike. He's never been anywhere like that.'

'Sure! It'll be quiet today, and I did skip out on you yesterday.'

'Shit, I forgot you went out with Zechs last night. How did it go?'

'Some of it was OK,' Duo said honestly. 'He brought me to a sushi place though, so it maybe wasn't the most successful dinner date ever.'

Trowa winced. 'Didn't he offer to bring you somewhere else instead?'

'Yeah, but we were sitting down by then and he'd already bullied this waiter guy to get us a special table, and I just couldn't be bothered having to go through all that again.' He grinned. 'I ate a shitload of rice. Probably the most expensive rice on the planet.'

'I'm not sure if I like the sound of you being treated like that.' Trowa sounded like a disapproving parent; it made Duo laugh.

'He was OK, really. Anyway, how come you know him? You're hanging around with princes who happen to be world famous photographers and you don't think of mentioning it to your best buddy?'

'I don't exactly know him. He used to date Wufei.'

Duo jerked up straight. 'Wufei as in _Wufei_ ? Seriously? Is there anything else you haven't bothered to tell me? Like you've been out with Johnny Depp or something? Or Cathy's secretly married to Orlando Bloom?'

Trowa laughed. 'It was years ago. It didn't end very well so 'Fei doesn't talk about it. And I'm sure I must have mentioned Zechs before at some point. He's involved in the SOS project with me; he does all the promotional photographs.' His smile faded; that was never one of his shiny, happy topics. 'So, how did you two get on?'

'OK. He does thinks he's God's gift, and he's so full of bullshit that it's a miracle his eyes aren't brown. He kept going on about all the famous people he'd worked with, like I was meant to fawn over for being so amazing. And then he expected me to go home with him!'

'You didn't?' Trowa asked sharply.

''Course I didn't!'

'Good.' Trowa stood up, keys in hand. 'I'd better go. Call me if anything comes up. If you get a chance, there are still those boxes of new books that came in on Saturday that need to go on the system. And don't worry about that guy; you deserve someone way better.'

That comment kept Duo glowing for the next few hours. Cat turned up in a cab, not long after Trowa had left, trailing suitcases and a violin. The driver actually helped them carry the stuff inside, so presumably Cat had given him a hell of a tip. Not a freeloader after all, then. Or else a highly successful one.

He seemed a lot more relaxed today; sort of sparkly and happy. Really, really cute.

Lucky Trowa.

They were so damn adorable together. Trowa came back a few minutes later and they left together, holding hands and laughing like two kids on the mitch from school.

Mondays were a quiet days, mostly. Duo spent a couple of hours rearranging the shelves, which always got messed up on weekends, and served one or two customers. He quite liked having the place to himself, now and again.

'_Don't worry about that guy; you deserve someone way better.'_

The words were still dancing in Duo's head when he put the 'Back in 10 mins' sign on the door and went out to get something for lunch. God, he loved Trowa. He really did. No one else in the universe would think that Duo Maxwell, with his sordid, squalid past, would deserve anyone better than an honest-to-god aristocrat.

When he saw the florist's van outside the shop, he thought at first they'd got the wrong address. It happened every so often; the lady who ran the boutique next door was very attractive and guys were always sending her flowers. It wasn't a mistake though. The delivery was very definitely for D. Maxwell.

They were from Zechs; an extravagant arrangement of highly coloured, exotic blooms. Duo dumped them on the counter, not sure what else do with them, and fingered the little card, trying to work out how he felt about all this. No one had given him flowers before, ever. He wasn't sure if it was something guys did. But Zechs obviously meant the gesture as some sort of apology and that was kind of sweet.

He wasn't sure if he really liked the actual flowers either- the arrangement was sort of stiff and showy. Duo preferred flowers growing in a real garden, or the way Catherine arranged them; just dumped in a glass.

They had probably cost a fortune.

The message was very brief. 'Apologies for my behaviour last night. Please let me make it up to you.'

Duo didn't quite get what that meant. Were the flowers and the card the way of making up, or did it mean Zechs wanted to see him again?

Shaking his head, he headed for the backroom. Zechs had his number; he could call if he really wanted them to meet up again. For now, Duo had work to do. Ten minutes later, he was swearing luridly at the computer. Shit. Trowa had installed a new programme the previous week, and offered to show Duo how to use it.

Duo, of course, had said not to bother; he'd pick it up as he went along. Which he hadn't. Tro had given him a crash course the previous day, but Trowa had obviously been thinking about his new blond pet and had neglected some of the finer points.

'Computers,' Duo declaimed to the empty shop, 'are an abomination. They should all be gathered up and burnt.'

'Computers,' said a strange voice out of nowhere, 'are machines, and as such are only as good as the people operating them. Machines are never to blame for human incompetence..'

What the _fuck_? Duo hadn't heard the door open, hadn't heard the little bell which signalled that someone had come in.

But there was, undeniably, a man standing in front of him. Not bad looking either. Maybe his fairy godmother had finally decided to make up for ignoring him for so many years and got her act together, sending him a daily quota of hot guys.

And this one was pretty tasty. Not as showy as Zechs, but a great body and eyes to die for. Eyes to dive into and wallow around in all that lovely blueness, the way you always wanted to jump into the blue, blue sea on holiday shows.

Pity the personality clearly didn't match up to the nice exterior. At least, Zechs had been charming and courteous. This guy was out and out _rude_.

'May I help you?' Duo made his tone icily polite, sort of how Zechs had spoken to the waiter in the sushi place, on being informed that he'd have to wait for a table.

The rude guy actually grinned. 'I just wanted to look around. Nice flowers.'

Duo wasn't sure if that was meant to be mocking or complimentary. Maybe the grin was actually a sneer in disguise. Not too great a disguise even; just a quirk of his lips.

'Yeah.' Duo reached out and touched one red, ferny-looking thing. 'My boyfriend sent them to me.'

OK, that was sort of a lie. But this guy with his messy hair and those damn eyes was unsettling. And rude. Very rude. Maybe he'd run off if he knew Duo was gay.

He didn't.

'I'm Heero.' He said it like it should mean something.

'Yeah? Sorry, did you have a book on order or something? Oh, wait. You mean you're Cat's Heero?'

'His friend, yes. He told me about this place. I just wanted to see it.'

'Sure. Knock yourself out.' Literally. Duo looked down at the keyboard, hoping the guy could take a hint, and hit a random selection of keys.

Nothing happened.

'Let me.' Heero was suddenly behind the counter with him. In the very small space. He moved as fast as Trowa. Duo swallowed as the other man's fingers flickered over the keyboard, and the screen flashed to life. 'You had Caps Lock on. That freezes this programme.'

'Cool! Thanks. How d'you know all this?'

'I like computers.' He offered Duo a rather shy, rather charming smile. 'I don't think they're an abomination at all.'

Duo grinned back, unable to help himself. 'I didn't mean that. really. You don't have to take offence on behalf of the whole PC nation.'

Heero laughed. 'I won't. I'm sorry if I sounded rude. Things sometimes sound better in my head than when I say them aloud.'

'Yeah, me too. Sometimes. People don't always get what I mean. Oh, sorry, I'd better get this.'

Damn. Bloody 'phone. Always ringing when you were trying to chat up the cute, cuuuuute guys.

'Wish Upon a Star. May I help you?'

'Duo? This is Zechs.'

'Oh, hey. How's it going? I got your flowers; you didn't have to do that.' Duo babbled on, hyper aware of Heero beside him. The guy had actually started entering inventory lists.

'Yes, I did. I behaved unforgivably. I would very much like to make amends, if you would let me take you out again?'

Duo fiddled with the tuft of his braid. Typical. Cute guys were like buses; you waited for ever and they all turned up at once.

'Please,' Zechs coaxed. 'I'll treat you like a prince. And I promise not to pressure you into anything.'

'No raw fish?'

'Not a single scale.'

That made Duo grin. Zechs actually had a sense of humour. And he was obviously interested. He'd be a fool not to say yes. The guy ticked all the right boxes for a prospective boyfriend.

What guy in his right mind would turn down a date with a handsome prince? It was what everyone in the universe wanted, right; for someone to utterly sweep them off their feet?

'OK then. But I'm not free 'til Wednesday.'

'Seven o'clock. If that suits you, I'll pick you up at home?'

'Cool! I'll, ah, I'll see you then.'

Heero, seated at his elbow, glanced up. Lovely, _lovely_ eyes. Cobalt compared to Zech's arctic blue.

'Do you have other inventory items you want me to enter, or is this the lot?'

'You don't have to do any of it. Really. It's my job.'

Heero produced another of those endearingly shy smiles. 'I don't mind. I like computers. And I'm saving this one from any more verbal abuse.'

'Well, if you're sure.' Duo leaned on the counter, watching the other man's fingers race over the computer. He was just being stupid; he didn't even know if Heero was gay.

He'd have to ask Cat.

'Have you had lunch yet? I've got a couple of bagels from the deli down the street. We could split them if you liked?'

'I'd like that.'

Oh-kay. Question answered. Duo didn't have that much experience with guys, and he wasn't overly vain, but he knew what that sort of look meant.

It was true what they said; guys were like buses. You waited for ever and then a whole bunch turned up at once.


	13. Tree Huggers and Trouble Makers

Note: The GW characters don't belong to me and I make no profit from writing.

Note 2: Many thanks to everyone who's been reviewing, and to KS for editing.

**Tree Huggers and Troublemakers:**

'This place is so beautiful.' Quatre said it for what was probably the billionth time.

Admittedly, given the way he was feeling right now, the sheer feeling of liberation that he'd stood up to Iria for the first time in his life, he'd probably have found a cement factory fascinating - had Trowa chosen to take him to view such a place.

He hadn't though. They'd driven less than two hours out of the city, into a haven of greenery and singing birds and cool, silvery streams dancing over pebbles.

After half an hour, they still hadn't made it more than a mile from the car park. Quatre kept stopping to exclaim over a patch of wildflowers, or a tightly furled fern frond, or flick a pebble into one of the tiny pools.

Trowa laughed. 'You're going to have to find a new adjective, Cat. I'll lend you my thesaurus when we get home.'

Quatre stuck out his tongue, dancing a few steps away when the other man lunged to catch him. 'Spectacular!' he yelled defiantly. 'Stunning. Amazing. Incredible. Fabulous. Breathtaking. _And_ beautiful!'

'Beautiful!' Trowa echoed, grabbing Quatre's hand and reeling him in. 'Stunning. Breathtaking. Incredible.'

The breath caught in the blond's throat as Trowa kissed him. A perfect, perfect moment. The leaves overhead echoed the colour of his eyes, and the sunlight painted red lights in his hair.

He'd been such a fool to be so nervous the previous night. Trowa was good and kind and wonderful. Once they'd moved a bit farther into the forest, and found a place where they could sit down and talk in private, he'd tell Trowa the truth.

It wasn't so very bad. He hadn't officially lied; just omitted some small truths. Well, rather large truths. But he could explain all that. It would work out.

Trowa kept holding his hand as they walked on up the path, ignoring the fact that there were a few other people around. Mostly older couples, probably retired, and usually with dogs.

It was so liberating, to be able to show affection in daylight, under the sun.

'What sort of dog would you like?' he asked suddenly, remembering something Trowa had said the previous day, and watching a black spaniel crash through the bushes after imaginary rabbits. He'd never seen a dog having so much fun. Some of his sisters had tiny, yappy lap-dogs, and of course the guards at home kept scary-looking specimens to patrol the perimeter.

'A big one,' Trowa answered at once. 'Maybe a Golden Retriever or a Pointer. I've an ex who used to breed German Pointers; they're great dogs. One day. I've taken in a few strays but it's not really fair to keep a big dog if you don't have the space for it.'

'You could take it here all the time and let it run,' Quatre suggested. 'It's such a fabulous place. If I lived here, I'd come here every day.'

'Well, I do have a business to run, so that's not all that practical. I'm really glad you like it,' Trowa squeezed his hand firmly. 'And your timing's pretty good. If you hadn't visited Sanque for another year, this part of the forest would probably all be gone.'

'_What_? Why? Have the trees got some sort of disease?' He knew, from his short time living in Canada that it was possible for trees to get sick, although he'd laughed at Jordan the first time his ex-boyfriend had said so.

'You could say that.' Trowa's mouth twisted bitterly. 'A disease called money. I guess you know Sanque's about to sign a treaty with your colony? Well, one of the provisos is that they need prime hardwood for some big construction project.' He waved his hand. 'This is what they're getting.'

'No!' Quatre gasped. He knew about the clauses; he knew L4 needed these raw materials, needed timber, for a new resource satellite WEI was constructing, but he'd imagined neatly sawn logs stacked in a warehouse somewhere. Not real trees.

Trowa nodded. 'Unbelievable, isn't it? Most of this is primary forest, centuries old. It'll probably last a couple of weeks once they bring in the bulldozers.'

'But…didn't anyone try to stop it? I thought you said this was a National Park. Isn't there some sort of protection order on the trees?'

'Not on this particular part. It's officially outside the park boundaries and for some reason it was never included in park legislation. It's up for grabs.'

'Maybe the people on L4 don't know it's important.' Quatre felt utterly sick. He was remembering something he'd heard Iria say months ago to one of her assistants, about 'stupid tree huggers causing trouble'. He'd asked what she meant, and got the usual answer; it was nothing for Quatre to worry about.

He'd just nodded and gone back to working on something he couldn't remember now.

'Sure they don't,' Trowa said acidly. 'We organised all sorts of protests. That's how I know Zechs, really. He took most of the photographs we used on our posters.'

Quatre's mind whirled again. 'I thought you said you knew him because he'd dated a friend of yours.'

'Well, yeah, but that was years ago. I didn't like him much, back then, to be honest. But he really threw himself into this project. We worked on a lot of stuff together; he was totally committed. I suppose we got to be friends, a bit.'

Another puzzle piece fell abruptly into place, the click all but audible. No wonder Zechs didn't want to be friends with him anymore. Not if the Winners were determined to destroy this place.

But he'd never said anything, never tried to persuade Quatre otherwise, which didn't make any sense.

'I don't know if the protests were ever broadcast on L4,' Trowa continued. 'Probably not. Our economy needs this treaty more than it needs a few trees. We've been an isolationist country for centuries, Cat. The Peacecraft monarchy never wanted Sanque to get involved in any of the European conflicts. We're a small, mountainous country so I guess we were never important enough to bother about. The present government is trying to change that a bit, to sign trade agreements with our neighbours, but they're not interested in us. Sanque doesn't want to become a part of the European Union; we'd just get swallowed up in all the bureaucracy. That's why the deal with L4's important. A pity we have to sacrifice places like this to get it, though.'

'I'm sorry.'

'Hey, it's not your fault. I didn't mean to make you feel bad. I'm sure most of the people on your colony would feel like you do. It's that Winner family who's behind it. By all accounts, they pretty much run L4 and they seem to think they can do the same in Sanque.'

Quatre swallowed, wondering if this was a good time or not. Now or never, maybe? 'The Winners? Trowa, I don't think they're that bad. They've done so much for L4; it's because of them that it's a prosperous colony. Perhaps they just don't realise how much these trees mean to people?'

'You're sweet, you know that?' Trowa gave him a quick kiss. 'But you don't have to make excuses for people just because they're from L4. They know damn well what's going on. They see Sanque as something to be exploited, just so they can get a few more billions in the bank. It's really sick.'

His expression darkened. 'I'll tell you something about the Winners, Cat, and then you won't feel you have to defend them any more. Their CEO's a woman called Iria, you probably know that?'

Quatre nodded, feeling utterly, totally sick.

'Well, she's a total harpy. A couple of months ago, she was here to give a press conference on all the benefits Sanque would get from this treaty.'

'But it is beneficial…..isn't it?' Quatre blurted. 'I've read the financial papers at home. It looks like a wonderful deal for both parties.'

'Well, yeah, on paper it looks pretty good, provided you don't start digging into all the small print. There're all these obscure clauses about penalties if we don't meet our exact trade quotas, about how L4 is going to have influence on our foreign policy and all sorts of shit. Anyway. This press conference was meant to be a nice shiny happy event; they only invited reporters whose editors were sympathetic to the deal but this friend of mine, Meiran, blagged her way in and started asking awkward questions. She was hustled out by security and next day when she went to work, she was told that her magazine had changed ownership and she no longer had a position there.'

'That's so awful.' Quatre swallowed past the terrible lump in his throat. God. He'd known about all of this, or at least he could have known if he'd taken the trouble to find out any of it. Iria had taken him out for lunch a month or so previously and they'd toasted WEI's first venture into the world of publishing on Earth. 'What's your friend going to do now?'

'She's doing some freelance work. Her cousin's one of my oldest friends and he's helping her out a bit. But that's the sort of thing that happens to people who stand up to the Winners. Anyway, none of it is anything to do with you.'

He took one look at his companion's downcast face and sighed. 'Cat, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to jump on my soapbox. None of this is your fault, OK? You're not responsible for what these damn parasites are doing.' He grinned suddenly. 'I'll tell you one thing; the word 'Winner' has pretty much become the latest obscenity in Sanque. It'll probably end up in the next edition of the Sanque Dictionary, with that bitch to illustrate what it means. Now come on. We're supposed to be having fun today. Race you to the top of the hill?'

'You _always_ cheat,' Quatre panted a few minutes later. His chest was heaving, he had twigs and leaves in his hair from forcing his way through bushes, and it felt great. So much better than the running machines in his gym.

And if he ran far and fast enough, maybe he could get away from who he was.

'That's because I always like to get the prize.' Trowa took his mouth in a long, very thorough kiss, caressing Quatre's tongue with his own and then apparently trying to stroke his tonsils. Which had been removed when he was seven anyway. 'You are totally delicious. Now, open your eyes and look at this.'

He spun Quatre in a circle and the blond gasped in delight. 'It's beau – er, it's stunning. So much green. And no buildings at all. It looks like people have never even been there.'

Trowa smiled. 'That's the Nova National Park. It's one of the largest in Western Europe.'

'Can we go?'

'Not today; there isn't time. If you really want to explore properly, you need a few days. A week if you've got time. It's easier to hire horses so you can cover more ground. Can you ride?'

Quatre nodded eagerly. He wanted to go into that place, that depth of forest, more than he could say. He would be able to forget who he was. 'I love horses. Do you think we could go there sometime? Please?'

'You sound like a little kid,' Trowa teased affectionately. 'I don't know; I'll have to talk to Duo about how much cover he can do. I've got a uni student who helps out part-time as well; I can ask her if she wants some extra hours. I should be able to sort something out. I suppose it's up to you after that. How long more are you going to be here?'

'I don't know.' Jerked back to reality with a resounding thump, Quatre looked up sadly. It was stupid, fantasising about all this. There was no way he'd ever be able to do anything like that; to take off into the wilderness with Trowa for days on end.

'Come here a minute.' Trowa sank down on a fallen log and pulled Quatre beside him, one hand stroking the back of his neck. 'Why can't you tell me what the problem is, Cat? Stop telling about all these vague family problems and tell me what's actually wrong.'

'I wouldn't know where to start.' He look his head drop against Trowa's shoulder and the other man dropped a kiss to his forehead. 'I'm tired. I'm twenty-three, Trowa, and I'm just so _tired_. Of everything. The night I met you, I'd been standing on my balcony at the hotel, and I actually thought, just for a fraction of a second, how easy it would be just to fall.'

'Jesus, Cat!' Trowa hugged him protectively. 'Things are never that bad.'

'It was only for a tiny second, really. I'd never do anything like that. I was just feeling…hopeless. I 'd had a horrible, horrible row with my sister, and I could see myself spending the rest of my life being miserable, trying to please my family and never getting to be happy.'

'Then, walk out,' Trowa said bluntly. 'You're a smart guy. You can get another job. Hell, I'd hire you in a second. Your family will come 'round.'

'No, they wouldn't. It's L4, Trowa. If I did something like that, I'd be disowned for ever. It happened to one of my aunts; she fell in love with an American who was working for my grandfather, and eloped with him. As far as my family is concerned, she doesn't exist. It's worse than if she'd died. No one's allowed to speak about her, all the photographs she's in, everything, they were all destroyed. I – I don't want that to happen to me,' he said in a small voice.

'Oh,baby. If your family really loves you, they won't do anything like that.'

Quatre shrugged. It was so, so tempting to believe that; to believe that his father would understand. After all, he'd gone against his own parents' wishes, to marry a blonde foreigner.

It was tempting to believe it, standing in Trowa's embrace in the most beautiful place he'd ever seen, but it was just a fantasy.

'It's not about love. It's about responsibility and duty and respect. When my father was younger than me, his parents arranged a marriage for him with the daughter of friends of theirs. Then he met my mother. She was on L4 to take part in a charity fashion show, and they fell in love. He was the favourite son, the baby, but my grandfather never spoke to either of them for years.'

Trowa kissed the top of his head, very gently. 'That's a horrible way to treat your own kid. But wouldn't it make him more sympathetic to you wanting to make your own life?'

'Not really. It was very hard, you see, those first years when they were married. My father's family treated him like an outcast. Then his older brother, my uncle, died in a 'plane crash, and Father had to take over the business, but he was still excluded from a lot of family occasions. My mother missed Earth terribly and my father's family was never very nice to her. They always treated her like an outsider, who'd seduced my father away from his duty. I think, in a way, my father's always felt guilty for that, and it's why he wants me to do everything properly.'

'Marry a suitable girl he's picked out for you?' Trowa's eyes, on him, were suddenly very keen.

Quatre shrugged. 'One day. Maybe. He does know I'm gay, but…. I don't know, Trowa. It's not easy on L4. He does love me, you know. He only wants what's best for me. And he's not very well; he had a stroke a few years ago, and his heart's never been strong since then. I'd hate to do anything that might hurt him even more.'

'So what _are_ you going to do?' Trowa sighed. 'No. Make that what are _we_ going to do?'

'We?' Quatre looked up, his fog of depression pierced by a single pronoun.

'_We_ as in you and I,' Trowa said firmly, grasping Quatre's chin and looking into his eyes. 'How long have you got before you have to go back home?'

'Maybe a week or so.' God, Iria would be furious. But a week sounded so…..permanent. An actual proper time period. And if Trowa got to know him better, he'd find out that he wasn't like the rest of his family, and then he could tell him the truth and maybe they could work something out from there.

After all, he would be the CEO of Winner Enterprises. He'd be expected to visit Sanque regularly. Maybe he and Trowa could arrange to meet discreetly every so often.

'Right. A week. I'm going to hold you to that, Cat. I think you need to see that you've got actual options in your life. You can make your own choices. And there's one other thing you seem to be forgetting. I saved your ass on Sunday night, right? Doesn't that mean I own you from now on?'

'Not exactly.' Quatre could feel a faint smile blooming under the tears. 'It means you're responsible for me.'

'I'm a very responsible person. Ask anyone.' He leaned a little bit closer and whispered in Quatre's ear. 'I sort of liked the idea of owning your ass, you know?'

'Oh!' Quatre could practically feel the heat radiating from his face, but he forced himself not to look away. 'I, ah, well, I suppose you do. Are you quite sure you want to be responsible for my…um, my ass?'

'Absolutely.'

'You don't know anything about me, not really.'

'No?' Trowa looked faintly amused. 'Let's see. I know you prefer being called Cat to your real name. You can't drink alcohol, you're a great dancer, you kiss like a dream. You're seriously sexy but you don't know it. You're lonely. OK so far? You're great with people; I was watching you in the shop yesterday. You were talking to everyone, even the little kids, like they were the single most important person in the universe. And you really listen when someone talks to you. That's actually pretty rare. You blush when you get compliments. I'd say that was cute, except I think it means that you don't get many of them. You like to make people happy, for them to like you, and I think that's partly why you've got these issues with your family. You need to learn to stand up for yourself more. What else? You're funny and very attractive and when you really, _really_ smile, you could probably power up the whole city. And I really like you, in case you haven't copped on yet.'

'I really like you too,' Quatre told him quietly.

'OK. In my book, mutual _really liking_ is a good sign. Now, come on. Let's find a nice place for a picnic and then there's another really great viewpoint over the lake, a couple of miles away. How's that sound?'

'Peferct.' Quatre let the other man pull him to his feet. For the first time in weeks, months, he was starting to feel a tiny glimmer of light. Of possibility. Trowa liked him. Of course, the other man had no concept of what Quatre's life was really like, but some of what he said made sense.

'Race you,' he yelled suddenly and took off in a mad headlong dash down the slope, hurtling through brambles and ducking lower tree branches before losing his footing and sliding all the way down.

'I won,' he gasped when Trowa, still on two feet, almost fell over him.

'You cheated.'

'I still won,' Quatre insisted. 'Don't I get a prize?'

'I'll give you prizes,' Trowa growled, and pounced.

Quatre was still laughing through swollen, bruised lips when Trowa hauled him upright.

The tall man made a face. 'Look at you. I'm not sure if I want such a scruff for a boyfriend.'

Quatre froze, the smart retort dying on his lips. 'B-boyfriend? Me? Really?'

Trowa considered it, grinning. 'Well, maybe if you cleaned up a bit, I'd think about it.' He winked. 'Lucky that I know you scrub up well.'

Quatre had never, knowingly, pouted in his entire life. He did so now, or at least his lips did. 'So you're only with me for my looks?'

'That's pretty much it. I'm the shallow, superficial type, in case you haven't realised that yet.'

'Oh, I have,' he played along gleefully. 'And you're horribly bossy. From the very moment you started talking to me, you were trying to tell me what to do. I've no idea what I'm doing with you, really.'

'What are you doing with me, Cat?' Trowa pulled him suddenly to a halt. 'Really?'

'I-I'm not sure where to start.' His voice came out just a little shaky. 'You're _everything_. Everything I could possibly want. I love talking to you, and you make me laugh, and I feel different when I'm with you. Happy and full of potential and interesting.'

'You are all of those things,' Trowa insisted softly. 'I can't see how you don't know that but you are. Now, come on. I don't know about you, but I'm starving.'


	14. Romeo and Juliet

**Chapter 15:**

Trowa taught him to skim stones just as the sun was setting. The beach was nothing like Quatre had imagined; he'd had visions of palm trees and endless golden sands, but Trowa drove him to a pebbly little cove just as the sun was setting. They'd had to clamber over rocks to reach the water, which was grey and rather rough and far too cold to paddle in. Quatre's new leather shoes hadn't given much of a grip, and he hadn't realised the slimy green mould was slippery at first.

It had got much easier once he'd taken the shoes off, even if the pebbles hurt his feet a little bit.

"It's all in the flick of the wrist,' Trowa explained patiently. He was a good teacher, full of praise and encouragement and delicious, tongue-borne rewards when Quatre made a good throw.

'Hmm. So I hear.' Quatre glanced behind him and gave his boyfriend – his _boyfriend_, officially – a sly little smile. 'Of course they say that about lots of things, don't they?'

'Must be true then.' Trowa stepped closer, wrapping both arms around Quatre's waist. That felt heavenly. It was getting chilly, what with the seabreeze and his wet feet. Sanque was colder than L4, once the sun started to go down. 'If _they_ say it.'

'Must be,' Quatre echoed, not really paying attention, just revelling in Trowa holding him. They were going to have the whole evening together, and the whole night, and they'd be able to wake up in each other's arms again. He couldn't, remotely, imagine what could be better.

He just had to find a way to stop Trowa hating his entire family. That might help.

'Cold?' Trowa nuzzled his ear, warm tongue flickering playfully. 'You're shivering a little bit.'

'Well, your tongue is in my ear,' Quatre pointed out. 'It's possibly because of that.'

'You think?' Trowa asked dryly. 'Still, it is getting a little cold and you don't have a jacket. Maybe we should head back to the car? Your friend Heero's coming for dinner, remember?'

'OK.' He didn't want to leave, really, but it was cold. 'Are you quite sure you didn't mind me inviting him? I know I should have checked. We could always go out somewhere instead.'

'Cat, you've apologised for that about a billion times, and I have no problem with you asking your friend, who's flown across the galaxy to see you, for dinner. I can just defrost something when we get back; it's no trouble. We really should be going though. You look like you're slowly freezing to death.'

'I never thought of bringing a coat. I forgot it gets cold here in the evenings.'

'I'm sort of glad you didn't,' Trowa grinned at him. 'It'd be a shame to cover up the way your ass looks in those pants. Very sexy.'

'Honestly?' Quatre, very daringly, attempted a sexy little wiggle and fell straight into a rock pool.

'I can't bring you anywhere, can I?' Trowa asked ruefully, hauling him out and removing a long piece of seaweed from his hair. 'It's amazing; like you have this natural talent for getting yourself into trouble.'

'I do not!' Quatre grabbed the slimy, nasty-feeling seaweed and whacked Trowa with it. 'I normally _never_ get into trouble; it must be your evil influence.'

'Me?' Trowa gave him a look of wounded innocence. '_I'm_ the one who just saved you from drowning; or possibly from being nibbled by wild crabs.'

'Ugh.' Quatre shivered; that didn't sound good. 'I don't think I'd like that.'

'The death of a million pincers,' Trowa intoned solemnly. 'Particularly painful. An ancient Sanque torture for sexy blond guys who don't make their adoring boyfriends happy. You'd better watch yourself.'

'Crabs don't really eat people, do they?' Quatre wondered, keeping a firm grip on Trowa's hand in case he fell in again. His only prior acquaintance with crabs was on a plate, but some of them were _big_. Maybe the things were carnivorous.

Trowa burst out laughing. 'God, you're adorable. I love the way you Colonials go on sometimes. Duo was just like that when I met him first.'

Quatre sniffed. 'Does that mean Duo is adorable too?'

'In his own way, yes. Jealous?'

'Certainly not!' Quatre said haughtily. 'Um, should I be?'

'No. I told you; we're just friends. There's no one you have to worry about.' He helped Quatre over an especially slippery patch of rock; the tide was starting to move closer now and he could feel the cold spray on his skin. 'I mean that, you know.'

'Thank you,' Quatre said, meaning it. 'Ah, you don't have to worry about anyone else either. There's never been anyone all that serious.'

'The guy in Canada?' Trowa flung him one of those suddenly intense glances.

'That was five years ago. We tried to keep in touch for a while, but then we were both busy and he met somebody else.' Years later, Quatre still remembered crying over that particular email. As an idealistic, in-love, _idiotic_ teenager, he'd really believed they would somehow stay together. So stupid. 'Now we just send Christmas cards.'

_And the occasional blackmail demand, of course._

He shrugged slightly. 'It's not all that easy having a relationship if you live somewhere where it's illegal to be gay.'

'It must be tough.' Trowa made the comment lightly enough but his eyes were very serious.

Quatre nodded. 'I hate it. All the hiding and deception. Today's been so wonderful; we'd never be able to behave like this on L4.'

'Ever considered moving to Earth, then?'

'I couldn't, ever,' Quatre told him sadly. 'My father's sick, and I'm the only son. I can't just abandon him. And if –when – dies, I'll be expected to take over and run the business, and look after my sisters.'

'Hey.' Trowa grabbed his hand, pulling him into a very thorough kiss. 'I told you, we'll figure something out.'

'OK.' Quatre gave him a weak little smile that wobbled a bit at the edges. It was such an enticing fantasy, but of course it could never happen. And if Trowa really knew who he was, he wouldn't want it to.

They'd reached the little path to the car park by then. Quatre sat on a boulder to put on his shoes.

'Let me do that.' Trowa squatted in front of him, rubbing Quatre's bare feet. 'You're shivering. I'm sorry, Cat. I forgot you're not used to the cold.'

'I'm all right. I think it's just because I'm wet,' Quatre told him, trying to sound cheerful. Wool felt horrible when it was damp, _clingy_ little fibres crawling against his skin.

'Right then. Time to get you back to the car and warm you up,' Trowa announced and before Quatre could protest he was swept up in those strong arms.

'Trowa! What if someone sees us?'

'Then they'll have to be jealous of me. Now, calm down. This isn't L4; no one's going to care about me having an armful of really cute blond. When we get back to the car, I'll turn the heater on full blast and steam up the windows a bit and then we can make out before we head home. That should warm you up a bit.'

It did.

Being driven by Trowa, Quatre decided on the way home, was rapidly becoming one of his favourite things. Trowa kept a firm hold of his hand, and they talked and kissed whenever they had to stop at traffic lights.

It was still nice to get home, though; the first time he'd seen the bookshop lit up in the evening.

There were no customers but Duo was standing at the counter watching a small, red-haired girl play chess with Heero Yuy.

'Duo?' Trowa moved purposefully into the shop, looking suspiciously at Heero.

'Hey, Tro.' Duo, interestingly enough, glanced up for one second, and then his eyes swivelled back to the pair on the couch. It was Heero he was looking at, Quatre noticed. 'Hey, Cat. You guys have a good time? Your friend's here, Cat. I guess you can see that.'

'Heero,' Trowa guessed, holding out his hand. 'I'm Trowa. Good to meet you.'

'Hi, uncle Trowa,' the girl piped up. 'He keeps beating me! Can you tell him to let me win _one_ match? Who's that?' She gave Quatre a highly suspicious glare, the exact mirror of her uncle's when he'd first seen Heero.

'This is my friend Cat. Cat, this is my niece Eleanor Bloom.'

'_Ellie_,' the girl insisted. She nodded in Quatre's direction. 'Hi. Are you my uncle's boyfriend?'

'Eleanor! What have I told you about personal questions? It's rude. Now get up and say hello properly.'

'It wasn't personal,' she argued. 'It was a factual yes or no question.' She offered her hand to Quatre politely. 'Are you his boyfriend?'

'Ellie!'

'No, it's fine.' Quatre smiled down at the little girl, liking her directness. He rarely saw his nieces and nephews except when they were shown off at family occasions, all on their best behaviour, and under strict instructions not to bother uncle Quatre. 'Yes, I am. Is that all right?'

'I suppose. You look nice and you're Heero's friend and I like _him_. Even if,' those dark green eyes, so disconcertingly like Trowa's in her delicate, feminine face, glared at Heero, 'he keeps beating me.'

'He's annoying like that,' Quatre agreed, trying not to laugh at the sight of his friend's abashed expression.

'What books do you like?'

'I just started the Narnia Chronicles yesterday.' Quatre hoped that would be acceptable; this felt a bit like a job interview.

'That's cool. Have you seen the films? Did you like them?'

Quatre shook his head. 'I didn't know there were films. Are they good?'

'She nodded. 'My uncle has the DVDS. Duo downloaded them but you can't tell people 'cause it's illegal. Uncle Trowa, you should let him watch the movies tonight.'

'We'll see. Ellie, where's your mother? She's late picking you up.'

Eleanor made a face. 'She had to get her hair done. And she's going to ask if I can stay here tomorrow. She's got a date. And Duo's got a boyfriend. He sent him those really ugly flowers.'

'They're not ugly!' Duo protested. 'They're …exotic.'

'And cost a fortune by the look of them,' Trowa said softly. 'From Zechs? I thought you weren't interested in him.'

'Yeah, well.' Duo blushed, playing with his hair and very obviously not looking in Heero's direction. 'He's not that bad.'

'Really? Listen, Cat, you should go up and get changed before you catch pneumonia. Do you want to take Heero up with you? I'll just be a couple of minutes.'

'OK.' It felt oddly like a dismissal; he obviously wasn't the only one with family issues.

Still, he needed to talk to Heero.

His friend followed him into Trowa's bedroom, sitting on the bed as Quatre rummaged for something to wear. 'How long have you been here? I thought you were going to take a rest and then go sightseeing this afternoon.'

'I wanted to see this place,' Heero said simply. 'Duo was having computer problems so I helped him with that, and then I just stayed on. Is he really going out with Zechs?'

'They went on one date, last night.' Quatre pulled one of the little cashmere t-shirts Heero had chosen for him. That would be OK, and he could wear the black jeans with it. Trowa seemed to like black. 'I thought Zechs just wanted to ask him questions about Trowa, but he must like him if he's sending him flowers.' Clothes decision made, he sat back on his heels, regarding his friend. 'You like him, don't you?'

Heero just shrugged. 'It doesn't matter how I feel about him. He's already got a boyfriend.'

'Hardly,' Quatre retorted. 'They've only been out once. And I think he likes you too; he couldn't take his eyes off you downstairs. I think you'd be better for him than Zechs anyway. For one thing, Zechs is bound to tell him who I am at some point. It's so _annoying_! All I want is a few days alone with Trowa and I do _not_ need Zechs hanging around. This is all getting ridiculously complicated.'

'Yes,' Heero agreed, dry as desiccated toast crusts. 'And it was all so very simple before.'

'Ha ha. It's not funny! It's all turning into some sort of stupid soap opera.'

'Trowa seems nice,' Heero offered, a peace offering.

'He is. He's wonderful.' Quatre rummaged in his case for underwear. 'Except the most _awful_ thing happened. It's like Romeo and Juliet!'

Heero gave him a look of pure puzzlement. 'His family has an ancient feud with yours? I find that a little hard to believe.'

'Of course not! But he hates the Winners. Everyone in Sanque does, from what he told me. They use the name Winner as an obscenity!'

Heero shrugged. 'Didn't you know about any of that?'

'NO! How was I supposed to know?'

'Newspapers, TV, internet?' his friend suggested. 'I know you only ever read the business pages but seriously, Quatre, even I know about the protests they've had in this country. How can you not know anything about it?'

The blond flushed. 'Iria told me there had been a few problems, but she said it had just been rabble-rousing anarchists and nothing to worry about.'

'Well, maybe it's time you stopped listening to everything Iria said and started to work things out for yourself.' Heero sighed. 'Stop beating yourself up over this. There's nothing you can do. And Trowa doesn't seem to have a problem with you, personally, as a Winner, so what's the problem?'

'I didn't tell him, Heeero. I couldn't. He went on and on about how we're going to rape his country for profit and he called Iria a harpy, whatever that is, and I don't want him to hate me.'

Heero shook his head. 'You're going to have to tell him sometime. Wouldn't it be better to do it now and get it over with? You can't keep deceiving him.'

'I _will_ tell him. Just not yet. Not until I sort all of this out. I have to convince him that the Winner family isn't totally evil, and _then_ I'll tell him.'

'And how exactly are you going to convince him that you're not evil?' Heero was looking far too amused over all this.

'It isn't funny!'

'It is, a bit.' Heero winced as Quatre glared at him.

'No, it isn't. It's not funny at all. I just have to get a whole forest designated as a protected area, so we can't cut down the trees.'

'Oh. Well, if that's all, it's all right then. Anyway, what happened to you today? Did Trowa drag you up a mountain by the hair?'

'Oh, I fell down a hill. And then I fell into a couple of rock pools. And that's not funny either. I could have been eaten alive by crabs!'

'Crabs don't eat humans.' Heero fell about laughing.

'Well, I didn't know that.' Quatre gathered up an armful of clothes and headed for the bathroom, trailing wounded dignity and little drops of water.

He tried to work out an agenda as he soaped himself.

Save forest. Convince Duo that Zechs wasn't a viable proposition as a boyfriend. Have sex with Trowa. Make popcorn. Save the trees…. Trowa would hate him forever if all those beautiful, ancient trees had to die. He'd hate _himself_. Snuggle on the couch while watching the film.

Concentrate. Trees. So beautiful, with their leaves the colour of Trowa's eyes…

Oh, forget it.

The trees would survive him taking one night off. He'd save them in the morning.


	15. Love, Actually

Disclaimer: the GW characters sadly do not belong to me.

Note: Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing and to everyone who's reviewed.

**Love, Actually.**

Something had changed between them; Duo realised it as soon as he saw them come back into the shop.

Cat looked like Trowa had dragged him around – and into – Lake Nova by the hair, his lovely clothes covered in mud but he obviously didn't give a damn. He was glowing like a Christmas candle and clinging to Trowa's hand, taking the occasional skip to keep up with Trowa's longer stride.

That was it then, by the looks of it.

Love, actually.

Trowa, to anyone who didn't know him really, really well, would have looked his usual guarded self. But he had that achingly tender expression in his eyes that usually got let out of the box only for kids and kittens, coupled with an odd gleam that suggested he'd love to lick up his companion like so much blond candyfloss.

Cat had somehow taken the leap from waif-and-straydom into boyfriend-land in a frighteningly short time. Lover-land, actually, from the way they were looking at each other. That hurt, just a little bit. Two years ago, in the course of an excrutiating episode when Duo had drunk more than usual, and come on to Trowa, his friend had told him that he kept friends and lovers separate and that he valued friendship far more highly.

Hilde always said there was no point remembering the names of his boyfriends. On the rare occasions when Trowa introduced them, you never got to meet them a second time.

Duo looked up from the counter with a resolute, just slightly rigid smile, and greeted them both. It looked like this 'boyfriend' was going to be sticking around.

Trowa, seeing the stranger seated beside his niece, immediately did the whole alpha-male, territorial thing, the hair on his arms practically standing up, and Duo introduced him quickly.

'Heero. Good to meet you.'

Tro's expression relaxed slightly, as he moved forward to shake Heero's hand. Of course, Ellie had to chip in at that point, mentioning the flowers and Duo's 'new boyfriend'. Duo loved the kid like she was his niece, but he still wanted to murder her sometimes.

The minute Trowa heard that Zechs was back in the picture, Cat and Heero were despatched upstairs. Here it came…Trowa tended to be on the protective side where his friends were concerned. The fact that he'd saved Duo once from the sort of situation Cat had been in hadn't helped. Any prospective boyfriends got interrogated and cross-questioned as to their intentions. It was kind of sweet when it wasn't annoying as hell.

They'd had a stand-up row about it once; Duo yelling that Trowa mightn't want Duo for himself but he didn't want anyone else to have him either, and Tro had just hugged him, and said everyone needed to someone to look out for them.

'Ellie,' Trowa said, not taking his eyes off the flowers and using the voice people tended to obey. 'Stock room. Now. I need to talk to Duo.' Those green eyes swivelled around to pin Duo in place. 'You're going out with him again. Are you sure?'

Duo shrugged. 'Why not? He's gorgeous and rich and he seems pretty keen on me. Why would I not want to go out with someone like that?'

'This morning, you didn't seem to like him very much. And I don't really see him as being your type.'

'It's just a date, Tro. Come on. It's not like I'm asking him to move in with me or something.'

'Point taken. OK.' Trowa reached out and tweaked the end of Duo's braid. 'I just don't want you getting hurt. And he's got something of a reputation.'

'And he's out of my league, right?'

'Positively not,' Trowa said firmly. 'But I think you may be a little out of your depth. Just be careful, all right? After all, he is one of the most gifted photographers in Sanque. I admire his work and I'd hate to have to kill him.'

Duo blushed slightly. 'What's the story with you and Cat, then? I wouldn't like to have to kill him either. He seems nice enough.'

'He is.' Trowa's high cheekbones stained, very slightly, with colour. 'And it's hardly the same, is it? Cat's a sweet guy on holiday. Zechs is practically a celebrity. Duo; if you go out with him, you'll probably end up with your photograph is some gossip magazine, and sleazy journalists speculating all about your relationship and trying to ask you questions.'

His gaze dropped back to the flowers. 'I've had all that before. Seriously, I wouldn't wish it on anyone.'

'Like I said, it's just a date, Tro,' Duo said quietly, and then took advantage of a hugely rare Barton-off-balance moment. Not really fair, but he wanted to know just what was going on, and Wufei always said you should exploit every opportunity. 'What is it with you guys? Love at first sight? The soulmate thing?'

He'd been only half-serious, trying to get Tro to open up, and his friend nodded.

'God, Duo, I don't know what it is. Sometimes, it feels like I've known him for ever, and then he says or does something, and surprises the hell out of me. And I can't stop thinking about him.'

Wow.

Trowa cleared his throat; Duo doubted he'd meant to say all that. Trowa Barton, on a normal day, could give correspondence classes to clams.

'I though we'd go out for dinner to Sweeper's, once Cathy collects Ellie. I can't be bothered cooking. Want to come along?'

'Tro, you don't want me tagging along on your dinner date.'

Trowa grinned. 'Cat's already asked Heero.'

'Oh, I get it. I entertain him and you get to devote yourself to Blondie? Smoooth.'

'You could ring Zechs and ask him along if you wanted.'

'Uh, no. That's OK. He probably already has plans.' Duo shook his head, looking at the flowers, and trying to imagine Zechs seated at one of the little booths in Howard's restaurant. He had a good imagination but it boggled at that particular prospect. The man would be so out of place it wasn't funny. He'd probably have a coronary if presented with paper napkins or a laminated menu. 'But I can tag along.'

It was actually a little bit hard to imagine Cat, with his designer outfits, in a place like that either, but he obviously loved it, gazing around like he'd never been in a diner-style place before, and exclaiming happily over the candles in wine bottles, and the murals Duo had painted. Duo caught him and Heero exchanging delighted, conspiratorial little glances, which was cute but kind of weird. It wasn't like they were anywhere all that special.

He'd forgotten it would be Hilde's shift. Big mistake. She took one look at the two strangers, whisked the party into Duo and Trowa's usual booth, rattled off the specials, took the orders, and dragged Duo off to interrogate him.

'Who _are_ those guys? Have you and Tro found some mail order hot guy site on the net or what?'

Duo laughed, leaning against the counter and waving at Howard behind the counter. 'The blond guy's one of Trowa's strays. Cat.'

Hilde's eyes widened. 'Wow. They're making strays in Armani these days? He's adorable. And the dark guy; is he a stray too? 'Cause I'd be happy to take him home with me. Not, I guess, that he'd be interested in me. Given that he can't take his eyes off you for one second.'

'Hilde!' Duo forced - _forced_, damnit - himself not to look over at the others. At Heero, to be exact. 'Don't be stupid.'

'Uh huh, Maxwell. That would be you.' She leaned over and whispered in his ear. 'Get your head out of your ass for two seconds. He's practically drooling.'

'He is not!' Duo whipped his head around and met Heero's blue, blue gaze. OK, he wasn't drooling, per se, but he was looking.

'Told ya!' Hilde crowed happily. 'He seems nice. A better fit for you than Zechs.'

'I don't know why I ever tell you anything,' Duo muttered. He'd sort of meant to keep quiet about that, and then he'd met Hilde getting a coffee on their way to work, and hadn't been able to resist. 'Why is everyone so down on me with Zechs?'

Hilde grinned, picking up a menu and fanning Duo's cheeks with it. 'Oh, I don't know. Maybe because you're a soppy romantic looking for your one true love, and he's a stud who's been through more men than Trowa. He's always in those gossip columns and he's always with a different guy; models and actors and such. He's so not your type, sweetie.'

'Well, I happen to like him,' Duo said tartly. 'And, oddly enough, he seems to like me too. Even if he is way out of my league. Very strange. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to sit with my friends.'

'Duo, hold up.' She grabbed his arm, pulling him back. 'Sorry. I'm sorry, OK? Look, I didn't mean to imply anything like that. But I'm just not sure if he's right for you, and you said you got pissed off the other night when he came on to you. Please don't be mad.'

'Yeah, OK. I know you mean well. It's just that I already got The Talk from Tro, and I am actually capable of running my own life.'

Hilde stuck out her tongue. 'It's just because we looooooove you.'

'Whatever,' Duo deadpanned, blowing her a kiss, and sauntering back to the others, while Hilde ran into the back to collect their food.

Tro and Heero had apparently hit it off big-time while he'd been away. Great. Trowa had finally found someone who shared his interest in the most esoteric of subjects; they were currently discussing the process for making Damascene steel. Instead of being pissed off that his boyfriend wasn't paying him any attention, Cat just looked happy to see them getting on so well.

Another point in his favour; Tro wouldn't want someone who got jealous.

Of course, Duo thought a little bit sourly, Cat had nothing but points in his favour. After two days, he obviously had Tro intricately twisted around his pinky. He was cute, classy, smart; everyone thought he was adorable.

Problem was, he _was_ pretty damned adorable, Duo decided, watching the blond attempt to eat his burger. The burgers Howard dished up were gargantuan affairs, and Cat was trying to tackle his with a knife and fork. It wasn't going well.

'You know, the easiest thing is just to use your hands.' Duo demonstrated and Cat carefully copied him.

'This is really good.' Cat said gratefully, his tongue flickering out to lick up a smear of ketchup. 'Thank you.'

'Not used to fast food?' Duo asked quizzically.

'Not really,' the blond admitted. 'I don't think we have any places like this on L4. I like it a lot.'

'Yeah, it's cool.' Duo took a slurp of his milkshake and glanced over at Tro; he and Heero were apparently talking about Damascene steel. 'So how long are you planning to keep up this double act?'

'_What_?' Cat's burger suddenly plummeted from his fingers. 'I – I don't know what you're talking about.'

'I'm from L2, in case you didn't get the accent,' Duo said quietly. 'I know what it's like to be gay on some of the colonies. I just wondered what all this means to you. Is it just a quick fling while you're on in a nice liberal country, and you're allowed to be with a guy, and then you'll head back home and forget all about him?'

'It's more than that,' Cat whispered, abruptly looking very lost. 'I really like him, Duo. But I – I'm not sure what's going to happen. My family, well, they'd be furious and I …I just don't know what's going to happen. I'm sorry.'

'Hey,' Duo reached out and ruffled that carefully tousled blond hair. Damn. One look into those massive blue eyes, and he was as lost as everyone else seemed to be. 'I didn't mean to upset you, honestly. It's just that he's my friend, you know? I don't want him falling for someone, and he's seriously fallen for you, who's just going to break his heart.'

'I've fallen for him too.' Cat's fingers were pleating the tablecloth nervously, but he kept his eyes on Duo's face. 'I'd hate to hurt him, more than anything.'

'Then I'm sure you'll sort something out.' Duo tried to sound more positive than he felt. Oh, well, he'd seen the way those two looked at each other; maybe they would. 'Now, eat your burger before it gets cold.'

The blond obediently took a massive bite and got ketchup all over his face.

'You're so messy,' Trowa scolded affectionately, picking up a napkin to wipe it off and then leaning in to give him a quick kiss on the lips. Cat stiffened for a moment, and then just melted into Trowa's arms.

Very cute. Very hot actually.

And very out of character for Trowa; he never did stuff like that in public.

Judging by the look of surprise on Heero's face, it was something out of the ordinary for Cat too.

What the hell? Trowa was nuts about the guy, Cat seemed to return the feeling in spades so he might as well start making friends with the blond. He was obviously going to be in the picture for a while. Not that he had much of a chance to talk to the blond for the rest of the meal; Trowa devoted himself to his pretty kitty cat, which left Duo to entertain Heero.

For someone who didn't actually say very much, Heero was pretty easy to talk to. He got Duo's jokes, and asked sensible questions and had a rather enjoyable, quirky outlook on things.

'OK,' Trowa said when they'd finished and called for the bill. 'What next? Do you guys want to go and get a drink somewhere, or come back and watch this Narnia film?'

'I'd love to watch the film.' Quatre raised meltingly adoring eyes to Trowa's face. 'I mean, if nobody else wants to do anything different.'

'Film it is,' Trowa said promptly, looking at Heero and Duo, but not giving them the ghost of a chance to express any opposing opinions. 'You want to come and see it?'

Duo burst out laughing. 'You'd probably kill us if we said yes, so I'm going to bail and head home. Heero?'

'I'd rather not be killed either,' Heero smiled at him. 'Do you have a car? Or can I drive you home? '

Duo shook his head. 'You don't have to do that. You must be exhausted after all flying all the way from L4.'

'I've got my second wind. It's no problem.'

'No, really. I can get a tram. It only takes twenty minutes or so.'

'I'd like to. I love driving at night.'

'Oh. OK then. If you really don't mind. But it's probably taking you out of your way and all and I…'

'Ahem.' Trowa cleared his throat loudly. Both he and Cat had their jackets on, and the blond was grinning all over his face. 'Cat and I are heading off now. I'm sure we'll see you at some point tomorrow. Don't forget, Howard closes at ten thirty, so you might want to have reached some sort of decision by then. Although I suppose you could just stand outside all night.'

'Asshole,' Duo muttered, watching the two of them leave, Cat laughing softly. Shit, even Hilde and Howard were in on the act, the girl mouthing 'go for it' and Howard pretending to shoo them both outside.

'Absolutely.' Heero shoved all that sexily messy hair off his forehead with one hand and grinned. 'Let me take you home, Duo. Please.'

And Duo caved; he didn't know why he'd been so reluctant, really. Heero was a nice guy. That was the problem, wasn't it? He liked Heero but he had a boyfriend. Still, one car ride wouldn't hurt.

Duo whistled at the shiny, black Lexus. 'Sweet car.'

'Isn't she?' Heero ran one hand along the paintwork. 'I got an upgrade from the car-hire company. Would you like to drive?'

'For real?'

'If you like.' Heero handed him the keys. 'It'll save you having to give me directions to where you live. Oh, do you want to go and collect your flowers before we head off?'

'Uh, that's OK. It'd take ages to open up the shop and turn off the alarm, and anyway, I spend more time here than at home, really.' Duo slid on his seatbelt and pulled out. Sweet, _sweet_ car. He sometimes borrowed Trowa's but you couldn't compare Tro's third-hand, ten-year-old model with this baby.

'So how long have you known Trowa?'

Oh, right. That was what this was all about; Heero wanted more info on the guy his friend was dating. Duo jerked his heart – which had unaccountably plummeted south – back to its usual place. Stupid of him to think otherwise. After all, he'd even told Heero he had a boyfriend.

'Four years. More or less.'

'Since you got to Sanque then?'

Duo nodded, rather impressed that Heero had remembered. 'I met him after I'd been here a few months. I was drawing a picture on the pavement outside Wish, and he came out and started talking. A few weeks later, I kind of got into some trouble one night, the sort of thing that happened to Cat, you know, and Tro bailed me out. I mean, not that I needed help or anything, I can look after myself, but it was nice of him to help.' He stopped at a traffic light and turned to look at his passenger. 'He's a good guy. He won't do anything to hurt Cat. So how long have you two been friends?'

'Six years. I had a summer job in his father's company the year I left school. Quatre – Cat, had a problem with his computer and I fixed it. In the process, we got talking and realised he had a rather a lot in common. We've been close friends since then. He's a wonderful person.'

'Yeah. I did wonder if he was on the level at first. You know, if he'd made up this whole stolen wallet story so he could sponge off Trowa for a bit.'

Heero gave a snort of laughter. 'You don't need to worry about that. I can promise you, he's not interested in Trowa for money.'

'I believe you. He's loaded, right? All those designer clothes he wears.'

'His family is wealthy,' Heero said neutrally. 'So, tell me, is Trowa likely to try, ah, sponging off him?'

'Trowa?' It was Duo's turn to laugh. 'Hell, no. I've never met anyone less interested in that stuff. Seriously, he wouldn't know Armani if it bit him in the butt.' He gave Heero a sly little grin. 'I swear, he's not interested in Cat's clothes, just what's under them.'

Heero, endearingly, blushed. Very sweet. 'Duo, do we have to talk about them all the way to your home?'

'You started it,' Duo retorted. 'I thought that was why you'd offered me a lift in the first place; to grill me about Trowa.'

'I wanted to talk to you.'


	16. Movie Night

Disclaimer: The GW characters don't belong to me and I make no monetary profit from writing about them.

Note: Many thanks to KS for all the edits. Sorry, the tutu didn't make the final cut.

**Movie Night:**

'Oh, they're so cute together,' Quatre bubbled happily as Trowa pulled him out of the restaurant. He'd never seen Heero so smitten with anything that didn't have an apple logo stamped on it somewhere.

'Yeah, really cute.' Trowa hauled him into a doorway, and pressed him up against the wall. 'Just like you. And it's been too long since I kissed you properly.'

'Trowa! We can't.' Admittedly, it _was_ dark, but there were streetlights, and people were walking past.'

'Quatre, sweetheart, haven't you ever heard of positive thinking? Yes, we can!'

Sweetheart.

Quatre dissolved into Trowa's arms at the endearment, and offered his mouth.

'There you go.' Trowa finished the kiss with a little nip to his bottom lip, and a lick to make it better, and one last flick of his tongue against Quatre's. 'Now let's get you back home so we can make out properly.' Then he shook his head solemnly, looking down at the blond in his arms. 'Hmm. On second thoughts, we may have to make the occasional refreshment stop on the way.'

The restaurant – Quatre had forgotten the rather odd name already – was no more than half a block from Wish. Just a few minutes' walk. It took them considerably longer to actually get home, with Trowa pushing him into every darkened doorway on the street, and describing in elaborate, exhaustive detail just what he planned to do to Quatre when they got home, and then proceeding to give him a brief sampler.

By the time Trowa finally shoved him through the front door, he had given up bothering to protest against the indecency, and even initiated his own. If he only got to be Cat for a few days, then he was damn well going to make the most of it.

Trowa flicked on the light and gave him a long up-and-down look.

'Very nice. ' He reached out and patted Quatre's bottom. 'I like these jeans. You do scrub up pretty well, don't you? I just might decide to keep you.'

'You're only with me for the way I look?' Quatre tried to sound offended; not easy with Trowa's eyes on him. 'I'm not certain if I want to be kept by someone as shallow as you, actually.' That was a lie. He couldn't imagine anything better in the entire world than to be kept by, and to keep, Trowa. Still, he stuck his nose in the air and breezed past him up the staircase.

He attempted to, at any rate. Trowa grabbed his hand, and whirled him back, pinning him against the door.

'I can do deep, baby, if you'd prefer that. Really deep.'

'Trowa!' It came out as a strangled squeak; even Quatre wasn't sure whether it was plea or protest and the taller man just chuckled lightly.

The flickering, feathery kisses along his jaw were a surprise. Tender and teasing and not remotely enough.

Quatre flung his head back, offering his throat, and Trowa immediately responded to that little gesture of submission, attacking the pale skin with an onslaught of kisses and licks and little nibbling bites.

He was going to be covered in marks; he couldn't bring himself to care. Then Trowa was taking his mouth, in one of those crushing thunder-bolt kisses, and there was one thigh thrust between his legs. Quatre could almost _hear_ the thrum of desire pulsing through his veins, and then Trowa reached down and squeezed and his whole body convulsed.

'I came,' Quatre said stupidly, sagging against the wall, and Trowa just grinned at him.

'I noticed. Now come on. You want to watch that film, don't you?' He took Quatre's hand and began to lead him upstairs. 'You go and clean up a bit, and I'll get the DVD ready. Anything you fancy as a snack?'

'You?'

'That's a given, sweetie. I meant anything to eat.' The one visible eyebrow waggled suggestively. 'Or should I say, anything else to eat?'

'Do you have any popcorn?' Quatre asked hopefully. 'And maybe some chocolate?'

'How old are you again? Nine?' Trowa teased. 'Cat, I practically have a sweetshop in my kitchen for when Ellie comes over.'

'OK. I'll just be a minute.' Quatre cleaned off quickly in the bathroom and then found a pair of loose linen pants to wear, and a deliciously soft, worn sweater of Trowa's over them. Then he draped one of the blankets from the bed over his arm and headed back to the sitting room.

Trowa glanced up from laying a bowl of hot, delicious-smelling popcorn on the coffee table. 'Just like at the movies, huh?'

'It's wonderful.' He'd been to the cinema once or twice on Earth; it was considered too big a security risk on L4 and anyway the Winner mansion had its own home theatre.

'If you're cold, I can put on the heating for a bit.'

'I'm not cold.' Quatre draped the blanket over the couch a bit self-consciously. 'I just thought it might be fun to, um, snuggle, a little bit.'

'We can snuggle,' Trowa kissed him gently. 'All you want. I guess I can grope you just as efficiently under a blanket.'

'There's going to be groping? I thought we were going to watch the film.'

'You seriously expect me to have you in my arms and keep my hands to myself?' Trowa shook his head. 'No way. But I promise not to grope you during the exciting bits. And it's a long film; we can have an intermission.'

As it turned out, there were rather a lot of exciting bits, both on and off screen, although Trowa gallantly kept his hands to himself for the last scenes.

'Oh,' Quatre breathed as the final credits rolled on the screen. 'I was so scared Aslan was really going to die at the end.'

'I thought you said you'd read the book?'

'Years ago. And sometimes they do change the endings. I can't believe I got so caught up in it! And you weren't even paying attention!'

Trowa shrugged. 'Not easy to concentrate on a film when you've got a cute guy lying on top of you. 'Specially one who's not wearing any underwear. Anyway, I've seen it about fifty times 'cause Ellie loves it. I'm not that into CS Lewis; too much Christian allegory. I prefer Tolkien.'

'I've seen the Lord of the Rings movies,' Quatre told him. 'They were wonderful. I really liked Aragorn.'

'I preferred Legolas, but then I do have a thing for blonds.'

'Should I start growing my hair?'

'And take up archery?' Trowa laughed. 'No, you're fine the way you are, actually. Do you mean you've never read the books?'

'I'm afraid not. I've always wanted to, but I don't have a lot of free time, back home.'

'Shocking. Once you finish the Narnia books, I'm starting you on a course of Tolkien.'

'OK.' Quatre rolled over and pressed a kiss to his mouth. Oh, he loved it when Trowa said things like that, taking it for granted that Quatre – no, Cat – was going to stay with him. Sometimes, he could almost believe it himself. 'Have you always liked reading?'

'Hell, no. When I was a kid, I hated anything that involved sitting still. I had this dream that I wanted to be an Olympic gymnast. I was pretty good too, even I wasn't quite as good as I thought. Then one day I was showing off, landed badly, broke my leg in three places and that was that. Even when I healed, it was never strong enough for me to compete.'

'Oh, Trowa. I'm so sorry.' Quatre snuggled against him. 'That's awful.'

Trowa grinned. 'It was years ago, baby. I was only twelve or thirteen. I'm over it now. Anyway, the point is, I couldn't travel with the circus with my leg in a cast, and I needed to have regular hospital checks, so my parents sent me here to stay with my Aunt Kate 'til it was healed up. Anyway, I guess I got into reading because there was nothing else to do; she didn't have a TV or a computer or anything, and then I got hooked and she couldn't supply me with books fast enough.'

Quatre chuckled. 'You must have been so cute. I can just imagine you surrounded by piles of books. Well, nothing's changed really, has it?'

'Nope. Anyway, after a couple of months, I'd read everything by my favourite authors, so my aunt bought me a couple of notepads and told me to write my own stories.'

'I didn't know you wrote! Really? What sort of things?'

'Nothing all that exciting. I've had a few short stories published in magazines, and I sometimes do book reviews for the _Sanque Times_.' He shook his hair over his face. 'And I've sort of written a book.'

'Really?' Quatre gasped, pushing himself up on his elbows to look at Trowa properly. 'Wow! You're so clever. What's it about? Can I read it? Please? '

'Hey calm down, OK? And come back here.' He hauled Quatre back into his arms. 'Anyone can write a book, Cat. It's getting published that's the problem. If I ever wanted to redecorate this room, I could wallpaper the walls with rejection slips.'

'Then the publishers are stupid!' Quatre said firmly. 'I'm sure it's brilliant. Will you let me read it?'

Trowa shrugged. 'You can if you like. I don't know if it's your sort of thing, though. It's really a young adult novel; science fiction. It's about five teenage boys fighting to liberate their planet from aliens and they've got really cool giant robots and amazing weaponry.' He laughed at Quatre's expression. 'I told you; I don't think it'd be something you'd like.'

'Well, I'd like to read it anyway.'

'Sure. I'll show you tomorrow. Duo's done some amazing illustrations for it. We're both geeks about mechanics and weapons and stuff, so we had great fun coming up with that part of it.'

'I'm sure it will be a best seller; you just need to find the right publisher. I have two teenage nephews and they love books like that. I don't know why but I thought you'd write fantasy rather than sci-fi.'

'I like both. One of the other things I used to want to do was to be an astronaut. But Sanque doesn't have any kind of space programme, and it would have cost too much to study abroad. I've always liked science fiction though.'

'Is that how you ended up running a book shop?' Quatre pillowed his head comfortably on Trowa's shoulder. This was so perfect. Just the two of them in this warm, cosy popcorn-scented room. 'So you could read all the books, and write when it was quiet?'

Trowa kissed his forehead. 'Running a bookshop was never part of the plan. After university, I lived abroad for a few years, teaching English. Then Aunt Kate got diagnosed with cancer. I came back here and helped out in the shop, and Cathy and I took care of her.'

'That must have been terrible.'

'Yeah. It was a nightmare. She'd been like a second mother to Cathy and me. Our parents died when we were teenagers, so she took us in, and made sure we got a proper education and everything.'

'I'm so sorry,' Quatre whispered.

'Anyway, we both helped out as much as we could. In her will, she left Cathy her house, and the shop to me. I'd planned to sell it and go abroad again, but then Cathy got pregnant, with this guy who's a total loser, so I had to wait 'til the baby was born, and then I didn't want to leave them. So I'm still here.'

'Are you happy?'

'Most of the time.' He grinned. 'I'm very happy right now, in case you didn't pick up on it. It's not how I'd planned my life would work out, really, but I get to talk books all day, and I have some free time to write, and now I have this really great boyfriend, so yeah, things are good.' He stretched, careful not to dislodge his partner. 'Sorry, can you just shift a tiny bit? OK, that's better. Now, lovely Cat, you've listened to me for long enough. Your turn. Do you realise I don't even know your surname?'

'Oh. Haven't I told you?' Quatre swallowed. It wasn't _exactly_ a lie; just his middle name instead of his surname. It's Raberba.'

'Nicely exotic,' Trowa approved.

'It's Jordanian. That's where my great-great grand-parents came from. Um, Trowa…..'

It was getting so exhausting; this web of half lies and evasions. It was so tempting just to be honest and get it done with. Except that he could still hear Trowa's words about the Winner family hammering in his head. His very surname was a curse in this country.

'Yes, Quatre?'

Quatre took a deep breath. 'I just wanted to thank you for the wonderful night I've had. I don't think I've ever had so much fun.'

'You have got to be the easiest-to-please guy in the whole universe,' Trowa murmured. 'All it takes to make you happy is a burger and a pirate DVD. So Mr. Quatre Raberba,' Trowa caressed his face with one hand, 'tell me something about yourself. I don't even know whether you live in a house or an apartment.'

'There really isn't very much to tell.' Quatre lay back down, resting his cheek on Trowa's arm. 'I have an incredibly boring life. Up until last year, I was studying for my MBA part–time, as well as working for my father, and I didn't really have a life apart from that. And I'm still living at home; that's normal for L4. People tend to stay with their parents until they get married, and then usually they just move in with their partner's family.'

'I sort of like the idea of extended families,' Trowa said softly. 'It's just me and Cathy and Ellie. It'd be nice to have some other people.'

'It is, I suppose,' Quatre allowed. 'Except all of my sisters want to run my life, especially Iria.'

'That's just a sister thing. Wait 'til you meet Cathy. You'll see her tomorrow when she drops Ellie off.'

'Do you think she'll like me?'

'She'll adore you.' Trowa gave him a firm kiss on the mouth. 'She's always on at me to find a nice guy and stop playing the field.'

Quatre blinked. 'Um. Do you?'

'Did. Past tense. What do you think I was doing at Stardust that night we met?' He wrapped both arms around Quatre's waist. 'God, I'm so glad I decided to go there. Now, we were talking about you. What was your ambition when you were a kid?'

'I'm not sure.' Quatre had to think about it. He'd always known that he was fated to end up running WEI. It hadn't left a lot of space to dream of becoming a secret agent, or a sports star. 'I've always really liked music. It would have been nice to do something with that. And I always wanted to travel. I used to spend hours poring over an atlas and planning out journeys.'

'Ever get to do any of them?'

'Not really. I did get to see a bit of Canada. That's pretty much it, though.'

'We can go and do some touristy stuff tomorrow, if you want. There's a really great maritime museum downtown, and we could maybe do a boat ride.'

'That would be wonderful. I did promise I'd meet Heero for a few hours in the morning though. I'm supposed to look over some accounts my sister Iria sent me, and he's offered to help.'

There, that wasn't totally a lie.

'We can work around that. He's a nice guy. Definitely took a shine to Duo, didn't he?'

'Absolutely! I'm so glad you liked him, you know.' And Heero had obviously reciprocated, which was wonderful.

'Pity Duo met Zechs first. I know he's a friend of yours, but he's got a reputation as a bit of a stud. I don't want Duo getting hurt.'

'I know. But they only went out once; it's not like they're actually a couple or anything.' Quatre squirmed closer to him. 'You have no idea how nice it is to be able to discuss things like this, just like normal people talking about their friends.'

'Poor Cat. You've had a pretty deprived life, haven't you? What does your father think about you being gay? He does know you are, right?'

Quatre nodded, sliding his fingers through Trowa's hair. 'Oh, yes. He doesn't like it much; I think he's hoping it's all some sort of phase and I'll grow out of it.'

'Doesn't seem to be working so far,' Trowa commented.

'No, it doesn't. I don't know, Trowa. Honestly. I don't know what I'm going to do. He …. puts up with it once I'm discreet and toe the line in every other way. When I tell him I've met someone I want to be with, he probably won't be too happy about it.'

'You're going to tell him then?'

'Yes! Of course I am.' He stroked the hair out of Trowa's eyes and looked deep into them. 'I promise. This isn't just some….holiday romance for me.'

'OK.' Trowa wrapped both arms around him. 'I believe you. So what happens after that?'

'I don't know. I'm sorry, Trowa. I want to be with you, more than anything. But I'm not sure how it's going to work.'

'Hey, don't look so sad.' Trowa's hands, caressing his face, were impossibly tender. 'We'll work it out. You know one of the things I really, really love about you? You're totally honest. You're not making this out to be some big fairytale with an automatic happy ever after.'

'I know.' Quatre hid his face in Trowa's shoulder, not able to meet that shining gaze. Trowa _trusted_ him so much and he'd done nothing, simply nothing to deserve that. Well, he'd sort out the worst of his family's plans for Sanque, and then tell Trowa who he really was.

And pray.

'The thing with my father,' he said haltingly. 'He's not very strong. He had a bad stroke a few years ago, and he has a weak heart. I …I really love him, Trowa. I don't want to do anything that might hurt him.'

'Sh. Shhh. He loves you too, right? Ultimately, he'll just want you to be happy. Now, I want you to stop worrying about all this and come to bed.'

'I'm not at all tired,' Quatre said through a huge yawn and then laughed. 'Well, maybe a little.'

'Oh, I didn't say I was going to let you sleep,' Trowa winked, and then stood, scooping Quatre up in his arms. 'I think we have a little unfinished business to take care of, remember?'


	17. Planning

Disclaimer: I don't own the Gundam Wing characters and make no profit from writing about them.

Note: Many thanks to KS for alpha-reading and to everyone who has been kind enough to comment.

**Planning:**

'How do I look?' Quatre walked into the sitting room of his – now Heero's – suite at the hotel, still straightening his tie, and made a face at his neatly suited reflection in the mirror over the fireplace. Quatre Raberba Winner gazed solemnly back at him.

'Like you.' Heero barely glanced up from his computer screen, but his tone made it clear that this wasn't altogether a good thing. 'I preferred the way you looked last night.'

Quatre blinked; in all the years they'd been friends, he couldn't remember Heero ever commenting on his appearance before. 'Me too. I called Zechs before I got changed.'

'And?'

'And I apologised profusely. I told him my assistant hadn't bothered to pass on any of his messages, presumably on Iria's orders, and that I was sorry.'

'It wasn't your fault.'

'Yes, it was.' Quatre sat down opposite his friend, drawing a chair up to the desk. 'I should have tried harder to find out what was wrong, and to fix it. Instead, I just hid my head in the sand and assumed something would work out eventually. Like I always do. He was kind enough to say he forgave me. Well, on condition that I save the trees.'

Heero grinned. 'That sounds like him.'

'Yes.' Quatre smiled back. He'd missed Zechs in his life; missed the other man's astringent view of life. Then he lost the smile, thinking of the last thing Zechs had said and whether he should tell Heero. 'Um, he said the fact that he'd met Duo through me helped my case a little bit as well.'

'Ah.' Heero's eyes were suddenly glued to his computer screen. 'Is it serious for him then?'

'He seems to think so. He was actually with Duo when I called; they're out on his yacht for the morning. Heero, I'm sorry. I thought he liked you, last night.'

'That's irrelevant. And you have nothing to be sorry for. I knew he was involved with someone from the start.'

'Well, I'm still sorry,' Quatre offered, giving his friend's hand a brief squeeze. This wasn't fair. Zechs had people fawning over him all the time, and hardly ever gave them a second glance. It was the first time he'd ever seen Heero so affected by someone.

'It doesn't matter. You seemed to spend a long time on the call to Zechs.'

'I didn't really. I tried calling Relena as well; we really have to talk.' That was a masterly piece of understatement. Quatre still wasn't entirely sure why she'd agreed to marry him in the first place. Zechs had hinted she'd hoped that, as the new Mrs. Winner, she would be able to influence some of the Winner intentions for Sanque. She was away though, for the next couple of days; escorting a group of deprived teenagers on some sort of wilderness tour. 'And I called Father.'

That actually won him a proper look. 'Really? You're still here so I imagine he hasn't ordered the Maguanacs to drag you back to L4.'

'Not immediately, no.' Quatre ran a hand through his hair, messing it up even more. Trowa liked it like that. 'I told him all about Trowa. It was…odd. He actually listened to me, for once, like I wasn't just a child to be indulged.' He shrugged. 'You know, half the time I'm sure he thinks I'm still about twelve years old. It was nice to be treated like an adult for once.'

'So what happens now? You're taking Trowa home to meet the family?'

The blond took a deep breath. 'Not quite. But I think I may have convinced Father that if I'm actually to take over WEI, as opposed to being a figurehead who happens to have the right surname, then I need more experience. And someone is going to have to head up our offices in Sanque.'

'That someone being you, I take it?'

'Of course.' Quatre's mouth stretched into a broad grin. 'So I get to stay here for a couple of years, at the very least. He's not really happy with Trowa being a part of the deal, but I can promise to be discreet. We'll see what happens after that, but at least Trowa and I will have a chance to get to know each other properly.'

'By which you mean he may actually get to know who you really are?'

'_Ouch_. I _am_ going to tell him; just as soon as his forest has some sort of protection order. I actually started to say something last night, and then we, well, we got caught up in something else.'

'I can imagine,' Heero said dryly. 'Now, before you talk to Iria, there's something you should know. I've been looking through both your company email accounts.'

Quatre nodded, not remotely surprised at Heero's computer expertise. It was how they'd met after all. He'd been seventeen, spending his summer holidays in the Accounts Department, and one morning his computer had mysteriously eaten the file he'd been working on the previous day.

He'd called the IT department, expecting a posse of technicians to storm in his door, with their superior breathlessly gasping apologies for the limitations of the system. That was what had happened the last time. Instead, a messy-haired boy his own age had turned up, flicked a few keys and given him a brusque lecture on the correct way to back up files.

Heero hadn't deferred to him for one second, which was a novelty. He'd treated him just like a normal person. They'd met for lunch, and Quatre suddenly had a friend, someone who was almost as lonely as he was. Heero had spent most of his life travelling with his guardian, never staying in one place long enough to establish friendships. He'd had private tutors, and although he was now attending university on L1, he was on a fast track programme, a couple of years younger than most of his classmates, and didn't really fit in.

Iria had approved of the friendship. Heero was a young man with an outstanding work ethic; he could only be a good influence for her little brother.

It wasn't entirely true.

Heero was a model of good behaviour – mostly – in the WEI building. At least when anyone was watching him.

Iria never suspected that the quiet, serious boy's idea of fun was to hack into the computer accounts of major corporations, or government departments. He didn't steal anything or cause any sort of damage. He just enjoyed the challenge.

Nor, fortunately, did she ever suspect that the boys' trips into the desert to study astronomy or weather patterns usually culminated in neck-or-nothing horse races across the sands. Rashid had obligingly kept quiet about these little excursions.

'What did you find?'

'A number of emails had been deleted, unread.' Heero paused, looking at him. 'They were mostly from Zechs. A few were from different environmental groups in Sanque; they obviously thought they might have more of a chance with you than with Iria. Some messages had also been sent to Zechs from your email account, asking him to stop bothering you.'

'That's _awful_. Zechs never mentioned that. I guessed my PA had been interfering with my inbox, but that's a total invasion of privacy. I'm sure it's illegal!'

'Then you can have Iria arrested,' Heero said, straight-faced. 'Problem solved.'

'Don't tempt me.' Quatre stood up, one hand raking his hair out of his eyes. It was an automatic reaction now. Trowa thought it was sexy.

'Rebel,' Heero observed, grinning at him. 'Good luck.'

Iria actually gave him a bright smile as he walked into her suite. 'It's good to see you looking more like yourself, Quatre. I take it you've come to your senses finally and decided to come home.'

'Not quite, although I think I have finally come to my senses. I told you, there are some things we need to talk about.'

She nodded. 'I got your message, but I didn't quite understand. Some nonsense about trees. Really, little brother, I don't have time for this right now. You may have decided to throw up all your responsibilities, but someone has to keep the company running.'

'I think WEI can survive without you for ten minutes or so.' Quatre took a couple of deep breaths. 'What we're planning to do here, it's a mistake. We're destroying part of this country's heritage.'

'Don't be so melodramatic. It's just a few trees. Nobody cares.'

'Yes, they do. A lot of people care. I've been researching just how much this morning; it's not just the people in this country but conservation groups all over Europe. Sanque is a democracy and there's an election next year. If enough people protest against this, their government will have to take notice.'

Iria snorted. 'That's all ridiculous. Yes, there may be a few disaffected elements, but no country in its right mind would reject such an advantageous deal. Anyway, we need the wood from those trees.'

'No, we don't. We need wood, yes, but any good hardwood will be sufficient. Sanque has a forestry department that produces tonnes of timber every year for the building industry. That will be more than sufficient. There's no need to exploit an ancient forest.'

'Quatre,' Iria glanced at her watch, frowning. 'You didn't even know this ancient forest existed a couple of days ago. Why don't you leave this to the people who actually know what they're doing?'

'Because I'm not sure if they do,' he told her flatly. 'We are about to sign a treaty with this country, as partners, and our first act is to ride roughshod over these people we're supposed to be helping. There are sites on the internet devoted to cursing us, Iria! There are protestors picketing the new offices we're building. We can't go on like this.'

Iria gave him a reluctant little nod. 'We may possibly have underestimated popular opinion in this case. I don't understand it; we've employed the top L4 experts on this country and its culture.'

'Maybe you should have actually spoken to some of the people from this country. Look, we can change this.'

'Oh, no. It's far too late. Backing down at this stage will look like weakness, as if we're giving in to popular pressure. That's no way to run a company.'

'No. It will look like we considered the options, and the wants of our future partners, and made a different decision. It will make us look flexible and indicate a willingness to co-operate and compromise. Irry, we can turn a PR nightmare into something really positive for Winner Enterprises! We can declare the forest a park, and make a gift of it to the people of Sanque. I've been there; it's beautiful! You could go there, and have a whole photo shoot and make a big ceremony out of it. The media would absolutely love it and it would make us look like the good guys, like we're not out to rape this country of every resource it possesses.'

'Hm. Well, I could find time to talk to our public relations people.' She sounded rather reluctant about it. 'Perhaps.'

'No. Definitely.'

'Quatre, you can't tell me what to do. You have absolutely no power in this company.'

'Not now,' Quatre said levelly. 'But you're the one who's pushing me to take over. Do you really want me sitting in the CEO's chair and reversing decisions you've made. Because I'll do it. I've already spoken to Father and he agrees with me.'

'What?' She exploded. 'You know that we're not supposed to bother him with trivial problems like this. His doctors all said so.'

'This isn't _trivial_. If you're so worried about Father's health, maybe you shouldn't be running to him telling tales every time I do something you disapprove of.'

'He's the head of the family,' Iria said coldly. 'As such, he has the right to know what his heir is up to. Particularly when it concerns the family dignity.'

'Fine. In that case, can we agree that your precious family dignity is at stake here? And if you think it isn't, just look at some of the Winner-hating sites on the internet. Not the .sq though. That's revolting.'

'Well, there's nothing more I can say, is there? If you've already gone running to Father. Thank you for that, Quatre. It's always nice to look incompetent.'

'I'm sorry. That wasn't actually what I was trying to do, Iria. Honestly. Um, I told Father a few other things while we were talking. About Trowa and what I want to do with my life. He's agreed to me taking over the subsidiary here on Earth for the next two years.'

'I see,' his sister's voice was bathed in bitterness. 'It must be wonderful to be you, Quatre. Always to get just what you want.'

'What? I thought you'd be pleased. It means that you get to run WEI for the next two years.'

'I don't _run_ Winner Enterprises, as you put it,' Iria said coolly. 'I may get to sit at the head of the table in the board room, and theoretically I have some say in decisions, but we both know that anything I want to do has to be passed by the board, and our sisters, and Father. I don't have any real power because I'm not really the CEO at all. Just the woman who's keeping the seat warm for you.'

'I'm sorry,' Quatre said.

Iria's face softened slightly. 'It's not your fault. It's just the way things are. And there's nothing either of us can about that. You may get to play at running the company here in Sanque for a year or two, but you'll have to come home eventually.'

'I suppose so.' He wasn't going to think about that. He and Trowa would sort something out between them. Assuming that Trowa even wanted to be with him once he found out the truth. 'One other thing. I was talking to Zechs this morning. There seems to be have been a slight communication problem between us. Messages going astray for instance.'

She didn't even trouble to deny it. 'We were in the middle of a massively important deal with Sanque. We didn't' need Zechs getting you involved and trying to meddle in things you know nothing about.'

'He's my _friend_. He's one of the few friends I've got.'

'He's a bad influence,' Iria said levelly. 'He always has been. You don't need people like that in your life.'

Quatre shook his head. 'Iria, you wanted me to marry his sister!'

'Relena's quite different.' She gave him a speculative look. 'You know, I still think she'd be a wonderful wife for you. And she would give you a veneer of respectability, if you still want to carry on your liaison with this man.'

'It's not a liaison! I love him.'

'Oh, please. You don't even know him! What happens when he sells his story to the press, or decides to blackmail you to get some money for that failing business of his?'

'He wouldn't do anything like that.' Quatre pushed his chair back and stood. 'He's not like that.' He handed her a sheaf of papers. 'Heero and I ran this up earlier; it's a press release. You'll probably want to have it polished up a bit by your people. I'd like to see it announced on the news this evening.'

'That's impossible. My schedule is full and…'

'The main news programme is at nine o'clock, Iria. I think that gives you plenty of time. Goodbye.'

Out in the hallway, Quatre just sagged against the door he'd closed. Oh, God. He'd never spoken to Iria like that, never spoken to _anyone_ like that. It was the way his father spoke to people, utterly confident that he would be obeyed.

And his sister had just nodded briefly.

Amazing.

He took out his 'phone, still marvelling at this new world, and called Trowa.

'You,' Trowa said firmly, 'were supposed to be home an hour ago. I think I'm going to have to ground you.'

'I know. I know and I'm really sorry. Heero and I got caught up in something and we lost track of time. I'm on my way home right now.'

'That's OK. I was actually about to call you. We have a slight change of plan for the rest of the day. Ellie was meant to be sleeping over at her friend Charlotte's house, while Cathy's on her date tonight, but apparently Lottie's come down with some sort of stomach bug so we're babysitting. I'm heading off to pick El up from school now. We'll still go out and do something; it just won't be quite the romantic date I'd planned.'

'Oh, that's all right. At least we get to spend some time together.'

'You really are Mr. Perfect, aren't you?' Trowa teased, the words dancing with affection. 'I'll see you later, OK? And it's a school night, so we can pack my Ellie off to bed nice and early and have some fun. How's that?'

'Perfect. See you soon.'

Quatre was still beaming when he walked into Wish. Everything was perfect; just perfect. All his plans had slotted exactly into place. And he had a whole evening to look forward to with Trowa. Much, much more if things continued to go so well. Once Ellie had gone to bed, he'd suggest taking a bottle of wine up the roof, and he'd tell Trowa the truth, under the stars.

'Hey, Cat,' Duo glanced up from the books he was stacking and smiled. 'Did everything work out OK for you?'

'Excuse me?' Quatre shot him a quick, questioning glance, but Duo's head was bent over a list he was reading.

'Heero told me last night that he was going to help you with some computer problems today. All fixed?'

'Um, yes. All fixed.' Quatre forced himself to breathe deeply. 'Everything's fine. Where's Trowa?'

'Chauffeuring Ellie around. I think she had to go to karate class. He said he'd be home by three.'

'OK. I was talking to Zechs this morning. Did you have a nice time with him?'

Duo's face lit up, and Quatre felt a sudden pang of sympathy for Heero. It seemed to be serious for Duo, then. 'It was amazing. Totally amazing. We sailed all around the harbour and saw dolphins and seals and we had this really nice brunch on deck with champagne and everything. Best date I've ever been on!'

Quatre bent down and took out a stack of books. 'Can I help? I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. Do you like him?'

'Of course I do!' Duo said cheerfully. 'Who wouldn't fall for a handsome prince who's out to show the best time ever? Cat, d'you think I could ask a favour?'

'Certainly.'

'Would you mind looking after the shop for an hour or so? He's asked me to this big party tonight, and I need to buy something to wear.' Duo made a face. 'It's at the Regency Hotel and I don't really have anything appropriate. It kind of sucks though; having to shell out money for something I'll probably never wear again.'

'Well, you don't have to.' Cat gave him a slightly uncertain glance. 'I don't know if you'd be at all keen on this idea, but you could borrow something of mine if you liked. We're the same size, I think, but you mightn't want to wear someone else's clothes.'

'Are you _kidding_?' Duo scoffed. 'Cat, seriously, I wouldn't have a problem with that. I never had new clothes in my life 'til I came to Sanque. Are you sure you wouldn't mind me taking your stuff? I'll get it cleaned and everything tomorrow.'

'Of course I don't mind. After all, I wore some of your things my first day here. Come on; we can close the shop for fifteen minutes, can't we? You can see if there's anything of mine that you like. It'll be fun!'

'You bet!' Duo enthused. 'Like playing dress up, right?' He gave Quatre an oddly shy little grin. 'I'm kind of nervous about this actually. I'm not used to going to these sort of fancy parties, but if I'm wearing your designer gear, I'll fit right in. It's fun sometimes, isn't it, to make believe you belong in this whole other world?'

'


	18. Almost

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of Gundam Wing.

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing and to everyone who has been kind enough to review.

**Almost:**

Quatre's heartbeat didn't slow down properly until he'd waved Duo off.

It had been nothing more than an innocent, throwaway comment. Surely. Surely Duo would have said something else if he'd been more suspicious. Except he didn't actually know Duo all that well, and maybe he liked to tease and torment people, until they were gibbering, nervous wrecks.

He had the shop to himself for almost an hour before Trowa and Ellie arrived home. Unfortunately, there were a couple of customers around which meant no welcome home kissing. He did get a quick hug from Ellie though, before she turned pleading eyes on to her uncle.

'Uncle Trowa, can I read _Twilight_? Please?'

'No. I've told you. You're too young. Those books are for teenagers.'

'But Marissa in my class reads them,' Ellie whined.

'Well, Marissa in your class doesn't have a cool uncle who's maybe taking her to the carnival this evening.' Trowa paused for effect. 'Unless you'd rather stay here and read about stupid vampires.'

'NO! Carnival! Pleeeeeasse…' She flung herself at her uncle, who grinned over at Quatre.

'What d'you reckon, Cat? Would you like to go to a carnival?'

'Oh, please!' Quatre begged with as much enthusiasm as the little girl. 'That sounds like so much fun. I've never been to a carnival. We don't have things like that on L4. Can we really go?'

Trowa burst out laughing. 'You two make a pretty good double act. OK. But it's not all that spectacular; it's just a few rides and sideshows on the end of the pier. Carnival it is then, as soon as we close up the shop. But you have to have a healthy snack and do your homework first, Ellie. Your mother gave me very exact orders.'

'OK.' Ellie plonked down in one of the beanbags by the counter, hauling books out of her school bag. 'I have to learn spellings and I have some really hard sums. Fractions. Can you help me?'

'Spelling, yes. Sums, not so much. You'll have to ask your mother tomorrow.'

'I can help, if you like,' Quatre offered.

'Seriously?' Trowa asked hopefully.

'Seriously. I love maths.'

'In that case, you're hired as a private tutor. And possibly as my accountant. Duo and I are both hopeless at keeping the books straight. Do you really not mind helping Ellie out?'

'Not at all,' Quatre said demurely. 'Of course, giving private tuition wasn't part of my initial job description when you hired me, so I will expect to be compensated.'

'All the junk food you can eat?' Trowa suggested. 'Bumper cars? A ride on the roller coaster?'

Quatre peeked over at Ellie, engrossed in packing her books back into her bag and lowered his voice. 'Well, some sort of ride would be perfectly acceptable.'

'The ghost train?' The little girl piped up. 'That one's really fun!'

Trowa rolled his eyes. 'Yeah, that's what he meant, all right. Ellie, take your stuff upstairs. Cat will be up in a minute. Cat, can I just get you to show me something in the stock room?'

'Customers,' Quatre gasped raggedly, slightly more than a minute later, when Trowa finally let him up for air.

'Don't care,' Trowa muttered. 'They can burn the place down, or steal every damn book if they want. Haven't seen you since this morning, and I am damn well going to get two minutes alone with you if….'

'Cat,' Ellie called plaintively from outside. 'You said you'd just be a minute, and it's been three. I counted. Aren't you going to help me?'

'Fuck.' Trowa took a deep, controlling breath.

'Well, not now.' Quatre gave him a sparkling smile. 'Maybe when she's gone to bed?'

When Trowa came up from the shop two hours later, Ellie had taken the cats up on to the roof to play and Quatre was cleaning up the kitchen. Baking had been fun, but caused a serious mess.

'What in the world are you doing? And what smells so good?'

'My cologne?' Quatre quipped, throwing the dishcloth in the sink. 'Actually Ellie and I baked brownies. She decided she didn't want the carrot sticks and dip you had for her. And we did her homework first, and then we worked out fractions practically by dividing up the brownies. Would you like one?'

'Only if I get to eat it off your naked stomach with lots of whipped cream,' Trowa teased. Or maybe he wasn't actually teasing. Hopefully.

'Absolutely. Once Ellie's in bed.' Quatre reached up to kiss him. 'For now, you'll just have to use a plate.'

'You could feed me.' Trowa took a bite out of the brownie Quatre held out. 'That way, I'd get to lick your fingers and wow, this is good. I didn't know you could bake.'

'Well, I've never done it before, but Ellie showed me what to do.' Quatre blushed at the praise.

'It's great. You're perfect, you know that? Just what every man wants; a chef in his kitchen, an accountant in his shop, and a gorgeous sex god in his bedroom.' He winked, demolishing a second cake in two bites. 'Or maybe in the kitchen, when we've got this place to ourselves?'

'I'd like that. Trowa, there's something I need to…'

'Uncle Trowa!' Ellie barrelled into the kitchen, the black cat Sophie squirming in her arms. 'I did my homework. Can we go now?'

'Sure.' Trowa rescued the disgruntled cat and let her run upstairs to the roof. 'Did you thank Cat for helping you and making you brownies?'

'I had to help _him_,' the little girl declared. 'He didn't know that you had to grease the baking tray or heat the oven or _anything_.'

'Well, I'm sure you didn't know how to do those sums until Cat showed you either.'

'Well, no,' Ellie admitted, slipping her hand into Quatre's. 'He was great. Way better than Miss Devlin at school.'

'Thank you,' Quatre squeezed her hand, impossibly touched.

The drive to the carnival was enlivened by Ellie's breathless narrative of just what she planned to do there, what she'd done at school that day, and her plans for the weekend. She had, Quatre thought wryly, a far better social life than he'd ever had.

'Is this OK?' Trowa asked as he parked and the three of them got out of the car, Ellie skipping a few steps ahead. 'It's not exactly how I'd planned to spend this evening, but….'

'It's great,' Quatre said firmly. 'Really great.' He meant it. The air was rich with the scent of popcorn and fast food and melted chocolate. There were balloons floating after running children, and music blaring out of speakers overhead. 'Where do we go first?'

'Candyfloss,' Ellie decided.

'Cat?'

'I don't know. I've never tried it.'

'OK.' Trowa took out his wallet and handed his niece some notes. 'Candyfloss for three. And don't tell your mother.'

'You spoil her.' Quatre twined his fingers in Trowa's as they watched the little girl scamper off, marvelling that he could do this and nobody cared.

'Yeah. I'm lucky; Cathy does the discipline and I get to indulge the hell out of her. Sort of makes up for her not having a dad.'

'Doesn't she ever see her father? Or is he not around any more?'

'Oh, he's around sometimes, more's the pity. When it suits him and he doesn't have anything more important going on. Which usually isn't at the times he's arranged to come and spend time with her. She adores him, poor kid. She's convinced he's got some really important job that takes up all his time.'

'And does he?'

'No way. He calls himself a freelance photographer, but he's on social security, and he sometimes does a bit of grunt work for local bands, setting up gigs and stuff. He's an asshole, always talking about some big money making scheme that's going to make him a fortune. And in the meantime his daughter never gets to see him.' He frowned, looking at Ellie who was coming back juggling three giant clouds of pink candyfloss.

'Cathy was so desperate to get the divorce that she promised him access whenever he wanted. She never thought he'd take her up on it; he wasn't interested in Ellie when she was a baby. He never helped out with her, never wanted to spend time with her.'

'But she's such a sweetheart! How long were they married for?'

'Little bit less than two years. He insisted they get married when Cathy was pregnant; his family are strict Catholics so I think he was guilted into it. He cheated on Cathy for the whole time, as far as I know; the last straw was when he brought one of his bimbos home and screwed her in their bed. She filed for divorce after that.' He grimaced. 'She's always had the lousiest taste in guys.'

'She's lucky to have you.' Quatre said softly

'Well, I'm lucky to have her and Ellie.' Trowa dropped his voice as Ellie ran back over to them. 'And you. It's great that you two get on so well. Hey, princess. Let me take one of those. Now, Cat, try your first candyfloss and see what you think?'

It was odd. Insubstantial and toothachingly sweet, as if spun sugar had been swirled with air. They walked around, letting Ellie have a ride on the merry-go-round, and the three of them squeezing into a carriage for the ghost train. _That_ was fun.

'Uncle Trowa, please. Can we try to get the llama?' Ellie begged, dragging them off to one side.

'Llama? Are there animals here too?'

'Oh, he's not real,' Trowa explained. Just a stuffed toy at the shooting range. Ellie's in love with him and we always try to win him when we come here. OK, we'll have a go each, but I don't think anyone ever wins prizes at these things. They're rigged so you don't win.'

Ellie did fairly well, hitting two of the five little ducks but Trowa was atrocious. Every shot went wide and although he did manage to pepper the fence behind the booth. At one point, the stallholder had to duck.

'Sorry, sweetie.' Trowa handed the rifle back. 'Next time, maybe.'

'I think you were better this time,' Ellie said encouragingly. 'You didn't hit the ground even once.'

'Can I try?' Quatre levelled the rifle, narrowed his eyes, the way Heero had taught him and took aim. Each of the little birds fell over as he placed a dead centre shot.

'Wow! Wow, Cat!' Ellie was jumping up and down, clinging to his hand. 'You did it! That was so cool! Like a gunfighter!'

Trowa grinned at him. 'You've got a fan for life. Now, are you going to tell me about your secret identity?'

'_What_?'

'Well, to be able to shoot like that, I guess you've really got to be secret agent or something?'

'Oh.' His heart began to slow down. 'No. Nothing like that. Heero taught me to shoot years ago.' Oh dear. This was getting ridiculous. At this rate he'd be giving himself a coronary soon. The sooner he actually told Trowa, the better.

'Oh, he's so cute.' Ellie gushed, arms full of a brown and white plush toy. 'Thank you, Cat. Thanks a million trillion!'

'I think she likes it,' Trowa grinned. 'Now, how about we go and get some dinner? They do pretty good fish and chips here; we could take it down to the beach and find a nice place for a picnic?'

'Yay!' Ellie cheered. 'And I'll tell my mum you made me organic vegetables, like always. Can I have onion rings too?'

'This isn't quite how I'd planned tonight, you know.' Trowa licked vinegar off his fingers, looking out at the sea.

'I'm really enjoying myself,' Quatre said truthfully. 'But what did you have planned?'

'Something a little bit more romantic.' Trowa shifted closer, easing one arm around the blond's neck and pulling him closer. 'Just the two of us, for a start. I thought we'd go and have a really nice meal somewhere, like a proper dinner date. And then we could go and find somewhere with good music to dance to, and then I'd take you home and ravish the hell out of you.'

'That would have been lovely. But we can still go home and you can still ravish me.'

'Proper all the way ravishing?' The breeze blew Trowa's hair back from his forehead, exposing both very green eyes. 'Or were you just teasing back in the stockroom?'

Quatre nodded around a mouthful of cod. 'I'd like that.'

'You said you wanted to wait for us to get to know each other a bit better.'

'I know. I meant it. But I really, really like you, Trowa. I want that.'

Trowa's arm tightened. 'I really, really like you too, Cat. And I can't wait to get you home.' He chuckled. 'How bad is it that I want to give my niece sleeping pills or lock her in her room or something?'

Quatre leaned down to whisper in his ear. 'How bad is it that I'd help you? And we can always lock our own door.'

'I had a little chat with Duo earlier. He said he doesn't mind looking after the shop all day tomorrow. I thought we could go off for the day tomorrow. Maybe stay overnight somewhere?'

'Oh, that would be brilliant! Really? Where are we going?'

'I'm going to take you to one of my absolute favourite places. It's a few hours up the coast. It's called Prospect Point; there's miles of beach, and an old lighthouse that you can tour, and loads of hiking trails, and a cute little village. Cath and Ellie and I went there last summer for a long weekend, and there's a really nice little B and B. You'll like it, I think.'

'I already love it!' Quatre laughed.

'Are you guys being all smooshy?' Ellie, hands on hips, stood staring at them.

'Very smooshy,' Trowa said cheerfully. 'You finished your dinner, honey? Can you run and put all this in the rubbish bin? We'd better head back, now. It's getting late and you've got school tomorrow.' He pulled Quatre to his feet. 'Come on, you; move that cute ass. I'm going to give it some serious smooshing when we get home.'

'I can't wait.'

Getting a much-indulged little girl into bed was a lengthy affair. There had to be hot chocolate, spot checks under the bed for monsters, a story and lots of hugs.

'Right.' Trowa closed the bedroom door. 'Now, just we'll just give her a few minutes to drop off, and then I'm sweeping you off to bed.'

'Do you think we could watch the news first?'

'OK. If you want.' Trowa sounded slightly surprised but turned on the TV anyway. 'I'm going to make tea. Do you want some?'

'Oh, I'll get it. You stay there.' Quatre made two cups of tea, waiting for sounds of cheering to erupt from the sitting room. This was going to be perfect. Trowa would be so happy that he wouldn't care _what_ Quatre told him. When he went back out, Trowa had turned off the TV, and was flicking through the paper.

'We've got a great forecast for tomorrow. Sunshine all day.'

'That's great.' Quatre sat down. 'Ah, wasn't there anything exciting on the news then?'

Trowa shrugged, taking a cup. 'Some PR circus with those Winner people. Apparently, they've reversed their decision to log the forest.'

'But..that's wonderful, isn't it? It's what you wanted? To save the lovely trees?'

'It's great that the trees were saved, sure. But they're just turning into this big media event now. They were probably planning to do that along, come swooping to save the day, making themselves look like the good guy.'

'Oh.' Quatre's happy bubble deflated abruptly. 'You don't know that. Maybe they just realised what an awful thing they were doing.'

'Yeah. Sure they did.' Trowa leaned over and kissed his cheek. 'I love that you're such an idealist. Big business people don't think like that, Cat. It's all a publicity stunt; gets them lots of positive advertising.' He shrugged. 'But the end result is good, so I guess we do have something to celebrate. And I'm sure we could think of a way to do that, hmmm?'

'I can think of a way.' Quatre squirmed as Trowa ran a knowing hand down his chest. 'But Trowa, there's something I've been meaning to tell you first, something really important and I ….'

'Uncle Trowa,' a small voice interrupted from the doorway. 'I don't feel so good. And I got sick in my bed.'

'Oh, poor baby.' Trowa scooped her up. 'Come on. Let's get you cleaned up.'

'I – I didn't poison her with my brownies, did I?' Quatre wondered anxiously, as they were stripping the sheets from Ellie's bed. She had decided she needed a hot bath, to get all the 'icky sick' off her skin.

'Of course not!' Trowa leaned over the bed to give him a quick kiss. 'It was probably my fault, giving her all that junk to eat. I'm usually a bit stricter than that, but I was sort of distracted. Plus there's a vomiting bug going 'round her school and her two best friends have it.' He grimaced. 'I think we might have to take a raincheck on the plans for tonight, Cat. Cathy said the other kids who got it were pretty much throwing up all night. I might just sleep in here with her.'

'That's all right. I mean, it's not all _right_, but of course I understand.'

'Thanks.' Trowa reached over to ruffle his hair. 'I swear, I am going to ravish the hell out of you tomorrow.' He fluffed up Ellie's pillow and straightened the sheets neatly. 'Now, what was that thing you wanted to say?'

'It can wait.'

It would have to. And they had the whole next day to themselves, and the night. At some point, there would be the perfect time.


	19. Celebrity Dating

Note: Thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing. This one is for all the 6x2 luvvies out there.

**Celebrity Dating: **

Cat's stuff was all over the spare room; tidiness wasn't one of his virtues, obviously.

'Now what sort of thing were you thinking of? I don't have anything all that formal, I'm afraid,' Cat apologised, dumping a load of shirts on the bed. 'What colours do you like?'

'I wear black mostly.' To be honest, Duo never really thought all that much about clothes.

'Black,' the little blond, who'd obviously missed his vocation as a personal shopper, shook his head. 'I don't have anything black. What about red?'

'Oh, that's nice.' Duo took the shirt Cat was holding out. It was really nice. A deep, glowing red, like dark rubies, and probably silk by the feel of it. 'I like red.'

'Do you?' Cat asked casually, rummaging in another pile. 'It's Heero's favourite colour too.'

What the hell was _that_ supposed to mean? Before he could ask, Cat had given him an armful of pants.

'Why don't you try these on and see if you like them? And then I'll find you a jacket and…'

'Cat, slow down, OK?' God, he was like a little blond whirlwind once he got going. He'd be offering Duo underwear next. 'Listen, this is really nice of you, but I don't know if I'd feel comfortable borrowing these. I mean, they're gorgeous and all, but they're all designer labels and most of them look like they've never even been worn. What if I spill something on them?'

'I'm sure they could be cleaned. Duo, they're only clothes, and you're more than welcome to take anything you like.' He bit his lip, all adorable confusion. Shit, how the hell did Trowa ever refuse him anything? Oh, he probably didn't. 'Please, don't worry about anything like that. Friends borrow from each other and we're friends, aren't we?'

'Sure we are.'

Cat's answering smile just about outshone the sun. 'Then take them and have a wonderful night.'

Of course Duo caved. How could he not, after Cat said that, and gave him the most wistful, hopeful look imaginable? He looked damn good too, all dressed up, and Zechs obviously thought so too, judging by the admiring look he got when Zechs collected him. In these clothes, he felt just like someone who should be going to swanky parties, with an aristocratic, gorgeous boyfriend.

It was easy enough to laugh off Zechs' extravagant compliments on how he looked; not so easy to dismiss the warm look in those blue eyes, or the proprietary arm Zechs slid around his waist as they walked outside, with one hand resting lightly on the curve of his ass. Still, he'd made it damn clear that Duo Maxwell didn't put out all that easily, and Zechs had come back anyway.

It felt good, having someone touch him like that. He'd been single for far too long.

It still kind of pissed him off that Zechs held the car door open for him though. Biting back a comment that he was well able to open doors for himself, Duo slid into the car. Zechs was only being polite; he should be glad to have such an attentive boyfriend.

'So what's this party we're going to?'

'It's an awards ceremony for _High Life_ magazine.' Zechs pulled the car away from the pavement and Duo tried not to drool.

One of these days, he was really going to have to ask Zechs if he could drive, just for a second. 'Cool. So are you going to get a prize?'

The blond's mouth curved in an easy smile. 'I think that may be for you to decide, at the end of the evening. But no, this particular function is for writers rather than artists. Hopefully we'll arrive just in time to miss all the speeches and nonsense about prize-giving. The reception afterwards should be fun.'

It wasn't, really. Sure, it was kind of fun entering the hotel with Zechs; heads turned to look at them and a few journalists snapped photos. Then Zechs was engulfed in a swarm of admirers and Duo was left propping up a pillar in a corner of the boardroom.

He did come back for a brief moment, just enough to give Duo a quick peck on the cheek, a hurried explanation that there was someone he needed to meet, and then took off.

Duo recognised a few people, either from TV or from the magazines that Hilde liked to read. It was sort of cool, being in a place like this, surrounded by famous people.

It wasn't a lot of fun though, standing in the middle of a crowd of strangers. Duo normally wasn't shy about going up and making friends at parties, but here everyone seemed more than happy to stay in their little groups of admirers and flick their shiny hair and air-kiss each other's cheeks. There wasn't even anything decent to eat; just fiddly little canapés that looked suspiciously fishy.

Plenty of people glanced over at him – quick glances that evaluated the price of his clothes - and then obviously decided he wasn't important enough to bother with. Not famous enough.

'Duo?'

'Wufei!' Duo turned in delight to see a familiar, friendly face. 'What are you doing here? I didn't think you wrote for these sorts of magazines.'

'I most certainly do not,' the Chinese man said contemptuously, making Duo laugh. Wufei prided himself as a serious financial journalist and was deliciously easy to tease about it. 'I'm here as Meiran's escort. She's had a couple of articles published by one of these magazines and since she lost her job she's here to do some networking.'

Duo nodded. 'Yeah. Tro told me she got the push. That seriously sucks. You should hear Tro talking it; it's not like he wasn't down on those Winners before but now I think he's got Voodoo dolls of them.'

Wufei gave one of his characteristic sniffs. 'That's hardly practical. But I have a better plan. I'm going to dig up every scrap of dirt I can find about that family and publish it.' His nostrils flared; always a dangerous sign. 'They may be able to get away with anything on L4, but there is some justice in Sanque at least.'

Duo grinned. 'Cool! I thought they were supposed to be all squeaky clean.'

'That's the image they like to project, yes. But I've been doing a little digging around, and there's something odd going on. I was supposed to be interviewing their acting CEO's brother a few days ago, and I got fobbed off with some excuse. He's allegedly staying with friends, but I've looked into it and he's apparently disappeared.' He gave a satisfied little nod. 'Yes, there's definitely something odd going on there.'

'You go, 'Fei,' Duo cheered him on, and then realised they weren't alone any more.

Arctic-blue eyes swept over the pair, but when Zechs spoke it wasn't to Duo.

'Wufei. I didn't think this would be your sort of party.'

Wufei gave him a brusque nod. 'It isn't. Especially not now. Good evening, Duo.'

Ouch.

Before Duo could even ask what all that had been about, Zechs rounded on him. 'When I ask someone out as my date, I don't especially appreciate being abandoned while they go off with somebody else.'

'Oh, _really_?' Duo snapped back. 'Well, when I'm asked out, I don't really appreciate being dumped in a crowd of strangers and ignored. I'm odd that way. And like Wufei said, this isn't really my sort of party. I think it's time for me to go.'

Without waiting for a response, Duo marched back inside, heading for the stairs.

'Duo. Please, wait.'

'_What_?'

'I am truly sorry. I shouldn't have left you like that; it was rude and inconsiderate and you have every right to be angry.'

'I sure do. I don't let people treat me like that.'

'Good,' Zechs said softly. 'You shouldn't. Can you please let me explain? Carlos Riviera was my mentor when I first took up photography. He's elderly now, and he's been seriously ill. This is his first public function in months, and he was just about to leave when we arrived. I really wanted to see him, just for a moment.'

'Oh. OK, I guess that's sort of different. But you could have just told me.'

'I know. I'm sorry.' He reached out and took Duo's hand. 'Shall we go somewhere and have dinner? Not sushi this time, I promise. We'll go anywhere you like, or I'd love to show you my home. We can have something to eat and just talk. Would you like that?'

Duo hesitated briefly. Two seconds ago, he'd have said no way. But the man had apologised, and seemed genuinely sorry. And it would be pretty cool to see his house. 'OK. But I have to work in the morning; I don't want to stay out too late.'

'I'll make sure you get your beauty sleep, don't worry. Not, I may add, that you need it.'

Duo rolled his eyes. 'So how d'you know Wufei?'

'We used to be friends.' Zechs took his hand, leading him down the staircase to the lobby. A couple of cameras flashed in their direction. Zechs totally ignored them. Duo tried to.

'Friends as in boyfriends?' God, that was hard to imagine. He couldn't imagine those two having a single thing in common.

'Briefly, yes.' Zechs' mouth was suddenly as flat and hard as a sword blade. 'I'd really rather not talk about it. I certainly don't want to spoil a lovely evening with you by talking about my ex.'

The house turned out to be amazing; not an old castle or anything, but a modern building in extensive grounds. All open plan inside, with mezzanine levels and odd angles and some really cool modern artwork. As well as a lot of framed photos that Zechs had taken.

Zechs laughed, watching him take it all in. 'I know. It's all rather pretentious, isn't it? Our butler, Pagan, insists on displaying the things, though.'

A butler. Of course.

'Can I ask you something? I went to your exhibition in January; the one you had for that children's charity. All those black and white pictures of those street kids in Egypt. They were amazing. Would you not like to do more stuff like that, instead of all this society fashion stuff? Doesn't that bore you, when there's a whole world out there to photograph?'

Zechs smiled taking a sip of his drink. 'Sweetheart, I promise, taking pictures of beautiful men and women can never be a bore. And I do get extravagantly well paid for it.'

'That's it?' Duo frowned. 'It's only about the money for you? Not about using your talents?'

'Well, one does need a certain level of income, yes.' Zechs put his glass down and gave Duo a quizzical glance.

'I could ask you these questions, you know. You're an extremely gifted artist, and you're frittering your talents away painting local shops and children's bedrooms. Do you really think you're using your own gifts fully?'

'It's not the same,' Duo argued, turning to face the taller man. He liked Zechs so much when he was like this; not trying to be all suave and sophisticated. 'I'm a moderately competent artist, but I know my limitations. It's different for you; you've got a real gift. Some of those photos you took literally made the hair on the back of my neck stand up.'

'I think you underrate yourself,' Zechs said smoothly. 'You are considerably more than _competent_. I think you could be rather successful, actually, given the right patronage, and perhaps a little exposure in the media. You're a very attractive, talented young man; it would be a positive pleasure to introduce you into the proper circles. I know some gallery owners; I'm sure one of them would agree to an exhibition. I could make you the latest fashion.'

'No, thank you. Not that it's not nice of you to offer and all, but I don't want to be famous because of who my boyfriend knows, or the way I look, or any of that shit. If my paintings are good enough, people will buy them. Full stop.'

'Idealistic artists tend to go hungry in their garrets, you know,' Zechs said indulgently. 'Realistic ones take photographs of supermodels for _Vogue'_

.

Duo shrugged. 'I can't imagine you know much about going hungry. And I don't need that sort of crap, having to worry about pleasing people and my image and all that. I'm happy the way I am; I like my life.'

'That must be nice.' Zechs turned away to look out the window, sounding oddly wistful. 'But, really, that's all you want? To work as a shop assistant for the rest of your life, and paint on people's walls? You have no other ambitions at all? '

'Of course I do! I want to keep on with my painting, and maybe do some more book illustrations, and I'd love to travel and have a pet and I guess I'd like to find a guy who's crazy about me to spend the rest of my life with. I think that's more than enough for anyone to want. What about you? What do you want that's so amazing?'

'You.' Zechs said instantly, glibly; he'd looked….almost lost for a second before he said it, though.

Duo glared at him. 'Don't bullshit me. You only met me a couple of days ago. What do you really want?'

Zechs shook his head, a faint smile playing about those perfect lips. 'I tend to be a rather impulsive person, Duo. I do want you. Would you mind if I took a photograph of you?'

Duo blinked at the sudden subject change. 'I guess not.'

It was fun at the start; Zechs was camping it up outrageously, making Duo relax, and snapping away.

'Unbraid your hair.'

'Nope,' Duo spun around, laughing, feeling his braid fly around him.

Zechs smiled and took the picture, but there was a definite note of command to his next words. 'Duo, let it down.'

'I never do that for people I don't know really well,' Duo said flatly. 'And I'd rather you didn't talk to me like that.'

'I'm sorry.' Zechs pulled him close and kissed him, very gently. 'I got a little carried away. I was starting to think you were one of my models.'

'Well, I'm not.'

'I know. You're far, far lovelier. I haven't offended you again, have I?'

'Nah, it's OK. People are always telling me I'm way too touchy about my hair.'

'It's beautiful.' Zechs ran one hand slowly down the length of the braid. 'Tell me, sweetheart, how well do you have to know people before you'll untie it for them? I would like, very much, to see it loose someday.'

One hand cupped the nape of Duo's neck, tilting his head back slightly. 'I want to get to know you that well. Will you let me?'

'I, um, yes.' The fingers at Duo's neck stroked lightly, and Zechs was close enough for breath to dance across Duo's skin, for that long pale hair to tickle his forehead. 'Sure.'

'God, you're adorable. Lovely Duo, will you let me kiss you properly?'

'Please.' It came out as a ragged whisper. 'Please, Zechs.'

It wasn't like he'd never kissed anyone before. It wasn't like he hadn't read the books or watched the occasional porn flick. Zechs had probably written and directed them. And played the starring role. The kiss was that good.

Tender at first; as if Zechs was asking permission. Warm, firm lips caressing his, probing his mouth open, and then the first sweet flutter of the other man's tongue against his.

God. He'd never been kissed like that. Chances were, no one in the entire universe had ever been kissed like that. Duo thought he probably had stars shining out of his eyes as he wrapped both arms around Zechs' neck and pressed their mouths together.

The second time wasn't nearly as gentle. Zechs obviously liked to be the one in command; the one who set the pace. Duo normally liked to have more say in the proceedings than that, but God, who was going to argue when you were being held by someone whose tongue could apparently reach down to your very soul, and cover it with kisses?

'I liked that.' Zechs didn't let him go, just pulled back an inch or two to look at him.

'Me too. Why'd you stop?'

Zechs threw his head back and laughed, all that amazing hair cascading around them both. 'The floor in here is very cold, very hard marble. And I know from experience that the chairs aren't very comfortable. Do I need to say any more? Or should I just show you?'

He took one of Duo's hands, dropped a light kiss to the palm and then pressed it between his legs. May I take you somewhere a little less formal?'

'Um.' OK, he wanted to. No real reason to say no, except he had to work early the next morning and it was already late, and it looked cheap to sleep with someone on the second date, and Trowa would kill him, and he didn't really want to be with someone who was only after sex, even if the sex was so miraculous it would probably – definitely – be worth it.

'Please?' Zechs kissed him again, immediately turning Duo's brain and assorted other body parts to mush, liquid, glowing, happy mush, and then taking his hand and leading him down a long corridor.

'Wow.'

It wasn't a bedroom. It was like a giant glasshouse, smelling of earth, and exotic fruits and plants.

'What is this place?'

'It's called an orangery.' Zechs let him stand still, gazing around, and moved off to light candles.

'It's beautiful. You have real orange trees?'

'There's one behind you. There should be some ripe fruit, if you want to look.'

Duo opened his mouth to ask _where_? and then saw the orange globes hanging amidst glossy, dark green leaves.

'For real? I can pick one?'

'That's what they're for.' Zechs watched, reclining gracefully on a huge sofa, as Duo carefully selected an orange, and then patted the seat beside him. 'I'll squeeze you fresh orange juice in the morning, if you'd like that.'

Duo put his orange carefully on the ground at his feet. 'Am I going to be here in the morning?'

'I very much hope so. What do you like for breakfast? Pagan makes a rather good Eggs Florentine.'

'I'm not that keen on spinach. And I haven't said I'll stay yet.'

'No, you haven't,' Zechs agreed equably. 'Do you think I might be able to convince you?'

Duo shrugged. 'I don't normally jump into bed with guys I've just met.'

'I know. And I'm not necessarily expecting you too. Duo, I have three guest bedrooms. If you prefer, you can take one of them.' He smiled, white teeth glinting in candlelight. 'On the other hand, I do have a very large, very luxurious bed that I would very much like you to share with me.'


	20. Honesty

Disclaimer: I don't own the GW characters and make no profit from writing.

Note: Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing, and to everyone who has been kind enough to review.

**Honesty:**

Quatre was stacking shelves in Wish when Zechs' car pulled up outside and Duo got out. They'd spent the night together then. He felt a quick pang for Heero, who'd taken such a liking to Trowa's friend, and then smiled as Duo entered.

'Hi, Cat. Sorry I'm late. Where's Tro? I didn't see his car outside.'

'He's taken Ellie home. She was rather sick last night, and she wanted to be with her mother.'

'Aw, poor little thing.' He took a stack of books from Quatre, scanning the titles quickly, as Quatre tried to work out if he looked like someone who'd spent the night having sex with a tall, very attractive prince. He looked pretty much as usual, though. 'You and Tro are off to Prospect Point, right? You'll love it there. It's beautiful. The perfect place to spend a bit of downtime with your partner. Lots of peace and quiet if there's anything you want to talk to him about.'

'Yes, it sounds lovely.' Quatre, on his knees and hands full of children's picture books, could almost feel his heart racing. His family had a history of heart disease; all of this deception couldn't be doing him any good.

'So when exactly are you planning to tell him?'

Quatre carefully aligned his pile of books at precise right angles. 'I'm sorry. Tell who what?'

'Cat.' Duo said it very seriously. 'Or, no, it's Quatre right? When are you going to tell Tro who you actually are?'

'I have no idea what you're talking about.' It was a desperate, last-ditch attempt to win a moment's time. Duo, somehow, knew. Not all that big of a shock; he'd been almost certain the previous night that Duo knew _something_, but he hadn't blurted it so maybe he didn't, maybe he'd just been teasing, maybe he knew but wouldn't say anything.

'Cut the bullshit, OK?'

'OK.' Quatre took a deep breath. 'Please don't tell anyone, Duo. Please. I promise; I'm going to talk to Trowa today. I – I would really like to be the person who tells him.'

His new friend – who was possibly no longer a friend anymore – gave him a little nod. 'Fair enough. But he needs to know, Cat. Seriously.'

'How did you guess?'

Duo shrugged. 'A few little things. I guess I knew some stuff that Tro didn't. We have this friend, Wufei, who's a journalist. I met him the other night, and he was talking about this story he's working on, how this guy who's the heir to Winner Enterprises has gone AWOL.'

'What?' Quatre gasped. 'A journalist! Oh, my god! What did you tell him?'

'Calm down!' Duo snapped. 'Cat, chill. I didn't tell him anything. I wouldn't do anything like that. You really think I'd do something like that? I thought we were friends.'

'I'm sorry,' Quatre said miserably. 'I really am. I'm just – not very used to having friends who don't want me for something.'

'That's all right. Anyway, I didn't really know who you were. I just knew you were this rich guy from L4.'

'How did you know I was rich? I never said anything!'

Duo rolled his eyes eloquently. 'Let's see. You were staying in the most expensive hotel in Sanque, every stitch you own is by some classy designer, you think working in this shop's the best fun you've ever had. No offence, but it's obvious. Anyway, I kind of put two and two together. You know, every time I mentioned your name to Zechs he couldn't change the subject fast enough. I couldn't work out why your friend never wanted to talk about you, so I guessed there was something fishy going on. Now, you tell me, why haven't you told Tro?'

'I meant to tell him the first day,' Quatre said quietly. 'And then I realised what a problem he has with my family; how awful he thinks we are.'

'Cat, Tro's not a fool. He's not going to blame you for what your family does.'

'Well, maybe he should. I've never once tried to interfere with any of Iria's – my sister's decisions. I've just gone along with everything because I'm not very good at confronting people and it was easier just to accept whatever she did. It wasn't until Trowa actually brought me to see the forest that I realised what we were doing to this country and I stood up to her.'

'That thing with Nova being declared a heritage site? That was you? Well, there you go! He's probably so grateful that he won't care what your surname is.'

'No, he isn't. He thinks it's just some publicity stunt, that Iria planned the whole thing so she could come in at the last minute and make a grand gesture.'

Duo burst out laughing. 'That sounds like him, yeah. The guy's such a goddamn conspiracy theorist.'

'It isn't funny! He utterly despises my family; he'll probably never want to see me again once he finds out who I really am.'

'Look, you don't know Tro like I do so you can take some of that anti-capitalist ranting he does with a pinch of salt, OK? Yeah, he has some issues with your lot, but he knows that in the long run it's probably the best thing for Sanque to go ahead with this deal.'

'You don't mind who I am, do you?' Quatre gazed pleadingly at his new friend.

'Nope,' Duo looked down at him and then bent and gave him a quick, firm hug. 'Stop looking like that; I feel like I'm stamping on kittens or something. Tro's lucky; he's always been able to afford to have principles. Yeah, maybe your family's a bit heavy-handed, but L4's got the best standard of living in the universe. If you grow up in a place that's not so well off, that sort of stuff counts.'

'I hope you're right,' Quatre sighed. 'I hope Trowa sees things that way.'

'Can I give you some advice? The thing that's going to piss him off big time isn't who you are - it's that you've been lying to him.'

'I know. I _know_.' Quatre looked down at his hands. They weren't so perfectly smooth and manicured as they'd been a week ago. He'd torn a couple of nails from opening cartons, and there was a small blister on one finger. "I honestly never meant it to be like this. It just…oh, I do know how ridiculous this sounds, it just _happened_. And then it was like I'd fallen into my own private fantasy.'

'This is your fantasy?' Duo cocked an eyebrow at him, gesturing around the shop.

Quatre gave him a straight look. 'Yes, actually. It is. Duo, for the first time in my entire life, people have been looking at me and seeing _me; _not my father's son, or the heir to WEI, or a walking credit card. I've made friends who like me, not because of who I am, or even despite, but because they like me. You have no idea how amazing that is.'

'I sorta do,' Duo said quietly. 'See, Cat, before I met Trowa, I was this scruffy kid who lived on the streets. I did stuff I don't like thinking about, and when people looked at me, they just saw this dirty, smelly kid who'd probably pick their pockets or proposition them if they got too close to me. I'll never forget the first time I met Tro, ever, 'cause he actually came over and spoke to me like I was a regular person who just happened to be drawing for fun outside his place. He's an amazing guy, you know.'

'I know.' Quatre swallowed. 'He is going to take it very badly that I haven't been honest, isn't he?'

'Yep. From what I gather, he's only been in love once before and the guy totally played him for a fool, fed him all sorts of crap and Tro fell for it. Honesty is like the most important thing for him. But he is totally crazy about you. Just tell him all the stuff you told me and tell him you'll be his sex slave for the rest of your natural life and he'll probably forgive you after he's ranted for a bit.'

'Oh, God, I hope so,' Quatre said fervently. 'I don't know what I'd do otherwise. I can't imagine not being with him. I – I really love him, Duo.'

Duo's face was suddenly one broad grin. 'That's kind of obvious. And, Cat. You know you said you were used to people only wanting to be friends with you for what they'd get out of it? Well, I lied when I said I didn't want anything from you.'

'What do you want?' Quatre forced himself to meet those incredible indigo eyes and saw only laughter.

'I want you to make my best friend happy. OK? And I want you to stay around 'cause I like you too.' He laughed, staggering backwards as Quatre suddenly hurled himself on top of him, and gave the blond a quick kiss on the cheek. 'We'd better not do this when Heero or Trowa are around.'

'Agreed.' Quatre found he was smiling too, even if he did have to dash one hand across his eyes.

''Kay. Listen, don't sweat this too much. He's crazy about you. It'll work out.'

Quatre hoped so, more than he could ever remember wanting anything. The drive along the coast was spectacular, but he was too nervous to enjoy much of it. Trowa wasn't in a talkative mood either, switching on the radio as soon as they started off.

Quatre put up with it for almost an hour and then ventured to ask if something was wrong. Oh, God. Maybe he'd found out from someone else.

'Sorry, Cat.' Trowa took one hand off the wheel to squeeze Quatre's leg. 'This is a lousy start to our trip. I'm just pissed off with Cathy. She took this morning off school to be with Ellie but she's got some big staff meeting this afternoon, so she called Rob – that's Ellie's dad – to watch her for a couple of hours after lunch. I really hate that guy being around, especially in their house.'

'But…we could have minded her, couldn't we? We could have delayed the trip.'

Trowa swung the car abruptly to the side of the road. 'OK, I have just got to kiss you for that.' He did. 'You're totally amazing, you know that? I would've offered, but Ellie heard Rob's name and got all excited.' He took a deep breath. 'Anyway, never mind. This is supposed to be our little getaway. I promise, I'll stop brooding right now.'

'That's all right.' Quatre looked out the window; a winding path curled through flowering bushes to a deserted, rocky beach. He'd meant to wait until they arrived at their destination, but he'd been putting it off and putting it off. 'Trowa, would you mind if we got out and went for a walk?'

'Sounds good. We're not in any hurry.'

Quatre waited until they'd almost reached the water, relishing the walk. Trowa was holding one of his hands and they'd paused once or twice to kiss.

'Trowa, there's something I have to tell you.'

'Mmm. Really?' Trowa grinned at him. 'Just a minute.' He bent his mouth to brush against the blond's. 'Maybe two minutes. Maybe you could just tell me later.'

'It's important. Please.'

'Fine. Say it. But I'm warning you; if it's anything to do with you changing your mind either about being gay or about sleeping with me, I'll spend the rest of the night trying to convince you otherwise.'

'It's nothing like that.' Quatre hesitated; there was, really, no easy way to say this. 'It's about my name.'

'Your name? What, you're not really called Quatre?'

'I am, yes.' He took a deep breath, holding it, and took Trowa's hands in his. There was no easy way to do this, really. 'Please don't be angry; but I haven't been totally honest about who I am. My real name is Quatre Raberba Winner.'

'Winner? I don't get you.' Trowa looked blank for a second, then his brows contracted slightly as he thought about it. 'What, you're some long lost cousin of that Iria woman?'

'I'm her younger brother.' He couldn't, to save his life, bring himself to look at Trowa in that one moment. 'I'm the only son, Trowa. I'm supposed to be taking over as CEO of Winner Enterprises in a couple of months.'

'So this has all been a lie,' Trowa said slowly. 'Everything you've told me about yourself. What the _fuck_, Cat? _Quatre_.'

'It's not like that,' Quatre whispered. 'Truly, it's not. Everything I've told you about myself has been true. Everything. I just – left out a few things.'

'A few things?' Trowa's voice dripped acid sarcasm. 'Like the fact that your family practically runs an entire colony? Like the fact that they're helping themselves to my country? You didn't think that I needed to know any of that?' He jerked himself away from the light clasp of Quatre's hands. 'Please, tell me this is some kind of sick joke. _Please_.'

'I wish I could. I really do. But it's not. Trowa, please, can you just listen to me? I – I can try to explain.'

'I don't want to hear it.' He turned on his heel, and took a few steps away, then whirled back. 'What the hell was all this about? Was it some sort of game for you? Is this how you get your kicks, Winner?'

'No.' It emerged as a sob; Quatre took two quick paces forward, almost close enough to touch him. He didn't though. 'Please, Trowa. I know what all this seems like, but _please_, give me two minutes to explain.'

'You've had plenty of time to do that, over the past few days. Why don't you save your explanations for someone who gives a shit? Because I sure don't.'

'All I am asking is for a chance to make this right. I swear, everything I've told you about how I feel is true. I love you. More than anything.'

'You'll forgive me if I don't exactly believe anything you say.'

'It's the truth. I know I haven't told you things, important things, but whatever I have said, it's the truth. Especially about you. Us.'

'There isn't any us,' Trowa snapped, and then glared at the blond, standing squarely in the middle of the narrow path. 'Quatre, get out of the way.'

Quatre shook his head. 'No. If you want to knock me down, fine. Go ahead. But if you don't, you'll have to listen to me. Yes, I was stupid and I don't blame you being furious with me, not at all, but I _do_ love you, and nothing is going to change that. Even if you walk away from me now, you're still the only person I've loved. And I actually thought you felt the same way about me.'

'Then, you were wrong, weren't you? I fell for a really sweet guy called Cat. But he doesn't exist.'

'I thought that too, actually,' Quatre said slowly. 'I thought at first that I was just pretending to be someone I wasn't, someone whom people liked, someone whom _I_ liked. And I don't like Quatre Raberba Winner very much. He's a wimp, pretty much, and he's obsessed with work, and with pleasing people, and with trying to avoid any sort of confrontations because he's scared of that sort of thing. Then I started to realise that I'd spent my whole life trying to be the person my family wanted me to be, to be Quatre, but that maybe all along I'd been Cat and I just hadn't known it. And I think Cat's a pretty nice person; he's a good friend, and he's brave enough to stand up for his principles, and he loves his boyfriend more than anything in the world and it's been tearing him up that I've been lying to you all along, but I thought if you knew who I was, you wouldn't want me.'

'You've got that right,' Trowa hissed. 'Why the fuck weren't you honest from the start?'

'The first night I met you, in the club, what would you have done if I'd told you who I was? One of the Winners whom you hate so much? You probably wouldn't have given me the time of day. You know, you wouldn't. You've just admitted it. And I didn't want to be _me_, that night. I wanted to be a person who could just go out to a bar, and maybe meet someone to dance and talk with, and not have to check with my assistants first that my diary was free, and ask my bodyguards to be discreet and ask my chauffeur not to park directly outside so people wouldn't see me arrive in a limousine.'

'Poor little rich boy,' Trowa mocked.

'Actually, yes,' Quatre said coolly. 'That's right. You don't know what my life is like, Trowa. _Was_ like, until I met you. I was miserable and lonely and I couldn't see any way out. I told you, the first time we met, that I'd…well, that I'd actually thought about just letting myself fall of a balcony. It wasn't the first time I'd thought about something like that.'

'I don't get how you can talk like that. Fuck, Quatre. You have everything most people would ever dream of.'

'Then they're idiots. Idiots plagued by nightmares,' Quatre said around the bitter taste in his mouth. 'I have nothing that anyone could ever want. A few days ago, I tried to remember when I'd last spent time with my best friend, my only friend, really, and I couldn't. I can't do _anything_ unless I check with my family and my board and my assistants. Every minute of every day is planned out for me; what I wear, what's served for my meals. _Everything_. I'm truly sorry I didn't just tell you he first night, but everything I told you about how I was looking for an escape, that night, that was all true. I'd just had a huge argument with Iria; I needed to get away so badly. You have no idea. And people treat me differently when they know who I am. They hear my last name, and never look past that.'

'You thought I'd be like that?'

Quatre took a deep breath. 'I didn't _know_, Trowa. Not at the start. I've had twenty three years of being Quatre Raberba Winner, and in that time I can count, on the fingers of one hand, the number of people who respond to me and not to my surname. I think I was five years old when I realised that. There were children at my school who wouldn't talk to me because WEI had put their parents' companies out of business, and there were others who invited me to parties because their parents made them. The only other person I've ever had a relationship with is blackmailing me because of who I am. I find it hard to trust people because that's what I've had to learn. After I got to know you a little, I was sure you wouldn't be like that.'

'So why didn't you tell me the truth sooner?'

'I wanted to. I started to, a couple of times. The first time was when we went to the forest, but you had so many problems with what my family was doing, I didn't dare. And I tried to, on Wednesday but Ellie came in, and then…I'm a coward, really. I wanted you to know about me, but I was scared. I thought, maybe, if we knew each other better, you'd get to like me, and you'd understand a little bit about me, and why I was doing this. Trowa, I swear, I never meant to deceive you. It just…. happened.'

Trowa granted him a brief nod; just the faintest downward jerk of his chin, but it made his heart soar.

'The past few days with you, it's been probably the closest thing I've ever had to a normal life. To have friends, and run to the shop and buy a newspaper.' He laughed shortly. 'I've never done that before. Do you know, my butler at home actually irons the papers in the morning, so I won't have to read them creased? It's ridiculous. This week..I don't think I've ever been happier.'

'Right, I get it now.' Trowa turned away, gazing out to sea. 'You wanted to live out a little fantasy of a normal life, before you get back to your world. Should I be flattered, that you chose me to be a part of it? Or was I even a part of the equation at all? How did I fit into your fantasy?'

'Trowa,' Quatre swallowed, and then darted forward, sliding both arms about Trowa's waist. The other man didn't push him away, just stood there. 'You _were_ the equation. You are. You're the only thing that counts. Everything else – the shop and your family and your friends – it's all your world. But you're the important one.'

'No, Cat.' Trowa pushed his arms away, very gently. 'That's not how it works. You've been lying to me since we first met. I didn't ever know your real name. If you love someone, you don't set out to deceive them.'

'I didn't,' Quatre said shakily. 'It all just happened. At first, you were just someone I met in a club. And then you saved me, and insisted on taking me home. Yes, I should have told you then. I do know that. But I was in shock, and I wasn't really thinking straight, and I liked you so much, I just didn't think it mattered. I didn't think I'd ever see you again.' He shrugged; a gesture he'd picked up from Duo. Iria wouldn't approve of that.

'And then it all just…snowballed, somehow. I kept waiting for the perfect moment to tell you, but I was scared of what you'd say, and I kept finding excuses and I know it was wrong but, like I said, I'm a total and utter coward.'

'Yeah, well, I guess I didn't make it easy for you, did I? Saying that the Winners were pretty much the manifestation of evil?'

Quatre pinned on a wobbly little smile. 'I don't blame you. Trowa, I was so terrified of losing you. I haven't, have I? Please say you'll consider giving me another chance. '

'Look,' Trowa took a couple of steps away from him, closer to the water. 'There's no point. You said it yourself; this isn't your world. And in your world, we can't be together. Ever. Shit, it was hard enough when you were just from some traditional family on L4, but you're a Winner. You know it's hopeless, so there's no point in asking me for chances. Is there?'

'Yes.' Amazingly, he wasn't immediately struck down by lightning.

Trowa's eyes, the colour of the deepest seawater in shadow, widened. 'What? You're planning to give up your family, your fortune, just for me?'

'Yes. In an instant, if it was that easy. I'd give up anything to be with you. But it's…complicated. One of WEI's strengths is that it's a family firm; we do have shareholders, but my family owns the majority of shares between us. For centuries, the oldest son has become CEO. I know it seems archaic and unfair and it is, but it does mean that there's never been any sort of dissension. Everyone knows who's going to be in charge at any given time. If I just – resign, there will be chaos. My sister, Iria, deserves to be in charge, but my other sisters and their husbands would never stand for that. And most of our board members are awfully conservative; they'll hate the idea of WEI being controlled by a woman.'

'So what are you going to do?'

'I don't know. Not yet. But I _am_ going to think of something. I swear, I would give up WEI in a heartbeat, but I don't want the company to fall apart, and that could easily happen. L4 depends on Winner Enterprises, and I can't just run away from that. Trowa, if – if I can find a way to be with you, would you be interested? Even after all of this? Because I can't lose you.'

'How likely is it that you will be able to find a way out of this mess?'

'I will.' Quatre gazed into those green depths. 'Somehow. I had a long conversation with my father yesterday. He's agreed to let me spend the next two years in Sanque, running WEI here. It means we can be together, if you like, once we're discreet about it. And two years is a long time; I'm sure we can figure something out after that.'

'Cat.' He was suddenly wrapped in those strong arms. 'I can't let you do this. Not for me. Come on, you've known me less than a week. Are you really prepared to give up your inheritance and your family and your home for me?'

'Of course I am.'

'And if I told you I don't want you, what would you do?'

Quatre closed his eyes briefly, against the pain of hearing it. 'If you don't want me, what I do doesn't matter. Nothing matters. If I can't be with you, I won't be happy anyway, whatever I do. Do you….really not want me?'

Trowa didn't answer in words. He just kissed him.


	21. Ground Rules

Disclaimer: I don't own any part of the GW characters.

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing and to everybody who has been reviewing. THis one is dedicated to Calamithy, who made me laugh on a very stressful Saturday. Merci mille fois!

**Ground Rules:**

They walked the length of the beach without talking, without touching except for Trowa taking his hand to help him over some slippery, seaweed-covered rocks.

'So…' Trowa asked finally when they'd reached the rocky headland jutting out into the sea. 'Where do we go from here? What happens next?'

Quatre took a deep breath, filling his lungs with salt spray. _We_. He'd said _we_. Both of them. He'd been sure – almost – that the kiss had meant Trowa wanted to stay with him, but it hadn't been a certainty and then he hadn't spoken for almost an hour.. 'I'm not sure. I'm going to have to go back to L4 fairly soon. I need to talk to my father, and sort out exactly what I'll be doing here in Sanque. I shouldn't be gone for more than a week or so.'

Trowa nodded. 'Just how pissed off is your father about all of this?'

'Not as much as I thought he'd be, to be honest.' Quatre wiped salt spray from his face and stepped a few paces away. 'I think he was rather impressed with some of my plans.' He couldn't help smiling at the memory. 'It was nice. He listened to me, properly, not just like I'm a child he's indulging.'

'Want me to come with you?'

'Not this time, if you don't mind. I would love to take you home, and I do want you to meet my father but I think I need to do this by myself. I'll be in meetings most of the time anyway. Is that all right?'

'Sure. Quatre, you said we'd have to be discreet. Define discreet. I'm not going to be your dirty little secret, with you sneaking off to see me when you think no one's looking.'

'Of course not! I wouldn't ask you to do that. I just meant that we'll have to be, well, rather low key when we're in public.'

'No PDAs?'

'Excuse me?'

'Public displays of affection?'

Quatre gave a rather regretful little shake of his head. 'Not when anyone can see us. I'm sorry.'

'Private displays of affection are all right?'

'Oh, yes! All you like.'

'OK.' Trowa pursed his lips. 'If you're going to be heading up a major corporation in this country, that makes you high profile. At some point, the media's going to find out about me. Us. How are you going to handle that?'

'I have no idea. Honestly. The media in Sanque does seem to be less intrusive than in other countries, but I suppose it will come out eventually. I don't care in this country, but homosexuality's not legal on L4.'

'What could happen to you? Worst case scenario?'

'Technically, a prison sentence. I think it's currently ten years for anal sex.'

Trowa drew his breath in sharply. '_Seriously_? Shit, Cat, that's barbaric.'

'Technically,' Quatre repeated. 'Really, I don't think anyone's been prosecuted for decades. I'd have to have sex with you in the middle of a children's playground or something and then play it on the evening news to get into real trouble. There _are_ gay people on L4; you just have to be very low key. The problem, really, is that it's still seen as a social disgrace for a man to be gay. Our board members are all very elderly and conservative; they'd probably have collective coronaries or something.'

'Thereby removing the problem?' Trowa suggested dryly.

Quatre laughed. 'I suppose it would in a way. I'd just rather keep a low profile, for as long as possible.'

'I have to tell some people who you are like Cathy, and my friends.'

'But Trowa….'

'No. I'll go along with your ground rules. That's one of mine. I'm not going to deceive the people who are close to me about who my boyfriend is. That's non-negotiable, Cat. If this is going to work, we need to trust each other.'

'All right. If you trust these people.' Quatre shivered slightly, not liking the idea of strangers knowing his secret. Still, it was bound to come out eventually. No pun intended or anything…

'I do. Totally. It's OK, Cat. Or d'you prefer Quatre?'

'Cat's fine.'

'Mmm. Yeah, Cat is pretty fine. So tell me, what's _Quatre_ like?'

'He's _me_. It's not like we're two different people, you know. He's a workaholic, and he spends far too much time pleasing people. And he utterly adores his boyfriend.'

'Who happens to adore him back,' Trowa grinned, squeezing his hand. 'I guess we can work on the workaholic thing, and maybe narrow the pleasing people thing down to pleasing just one person.' He hesitated. 'Don't worry about me telling people, OK? It'll just be my sister, and Duo and a couple of other close friends.'

'Actually, I forgot to tell you. Duo already knows.'

Trowa frowned. 'What? How does _he_ know?'

'He guessed. I think he only really worked it out last night, and he said it to me this morning. Oh, God, Trowa, I forgot. There's something awful that I meant to tell you earlier. Your friend Wufei is writing a story about me.'

'Wufei knows who you are?' Trowa's brows contracted over the furrow between his eyes. 'For God's sake, am I the only person in the entire universe who didn't know who you are?'

'No. He doesn't really know, but he's investigating Quatre Winner. He thinks there's some sort of scandal about why I've disappeared. Trowa, it's not funny!'

'It's freaking hilarious!' Trowa mopped his eyes on his sleeve. 'Oh, come _on_, Cat. You have to see the funny side of all this. Poor Wufei's probably been busting his ass to find out where you were, and you're living with me all along. I even talked to him yesterday, told him I'd got a new boyfriend and that you guys would have to meet. '

Quatre sniffed. 'I don't think that's funny at all. What happens when he realises who I am, and he sells the stories to every tabloid in the world?'

'Hey, calm down.' Trowa reached out one long arm, and hooked it around Quatre's shoulders. 'Nothing like that is going to happen. He's not that sort of journalist. He probably thinks you're up to some sort of shady financial deal, and he can expose that. He doesn't believe in journalists intruding on people's private lives provided they're not doing anything illegal. If it doesn't involve numbers in some form, he won't be interested.'

'Oh. Well, I suppose that's all right.' He didn't think it was all right, not at all, but Wufei was Trowa's friend, and like he said, they were going to have to start trusting one another. 'It probably doesn't matter anyway. My ex boyfriend's determined to out me, one way or another.'

Trowa frowned. 'What's the deal with that? It's the guy you knew in Canada, right? I thought you were still friends with him.'

'So did I.' Quatre bent down to scoop a handful of warm sand, letting it run through his fingers. 'His new partner works for a human rights organisation, and he's very involved in gay rights, especially on the Colonies. He wants our parliament to pass new legislation next year, and he thinks it will help if someone like me comes out of the closet. Basically, if I don't do it myself, they're threatening to out me.'

'Bastards. The pair of them. And your ex is just going along with this even though it'll totally mess up your life?' Trowa shook his head. 'Have they got proof?'

'Oh, yes. Jordan has photos of us together.' Quatre shivered suddenly. Some of those photos had been taken on deserted beaches in British Columbia. This wasn't the same. He trusted Trowa, utterly and completely. 'And he has letters and emails from me; all sorts of things.'

'And this Jordan guy is willing to fuck you up like that?'

'Apparently. He thinks he's doing me a favour, making me be honest with myself. Anyway, our lawyers are trying to sort it out, so I'm not allowed to contact him.' Quatre sighed. It still hurt enormously; that someone he'd loved would treat him like that. 'So go ahead, tell people who I am. They'll probably end up reading it in some newspaper anyway.'

'You don't know that for sure.' Trowa lifted his hand and kissed it. 'It's a hell of a way to treat someone, and I certainly don't want you to get in trouble for being gay, but in the long run maybe it would be better just to tell people.'

Quatre shrugged. 'Maybe. They all seem to guess anyway.'

'Speaking of which, how the hell did Duo know who you were?'

'A few things, really. I think it was partly Zechs not talking about me at all; partly him guessing I had money. And then Wufei mentioned Quatre Winner disappearing and he put it all together.'

'God, I can't believe I didn't work it out.'

'Well, you probably didn't even know I existed.'

'Here's the thing. I did. Zechs told me about a friend he had on L4 who was one of the Winner family, and who'd try to help us.'

Quatre nodded soberly. 'I'm so very sorry about that. He did call me, and sent some emails, but my assistant managed to 'lose' them, on my sister's orders.'

'I hope you gave her hell for that.'

'Oh, it wasn't just her fault. I could have tried harder to stay in contact with him. I kept meaning to call him, but I was always busy and I kept procrastinating.'

'Hmmm. Seems to be a bit of a habit.'

Quatre flushed. 'It is, I know. I'm trying to get better.'

'Oh well, we all have our little faults. Wait! That announcement last night about the forest; were you behind that?'

Grinning at him, Quatre nodded. 'That's right. It honestly wasn't a publicity stunt my sister dreamed up; I was trying to convince you that we weren't all evil.'

Trowa started to laugh again, catching Quatre's hand and swinging it. 'Oh, poor Cat. That didn't go quite how you'd planned it, did it? Was I supposed to roll over and start singing your family's praises?'

'Something like that,' the blond admitted. 'Trowa, do you think we could sit down for a minute? It's so lovely here.'

'We could do that.' Trowa collapsed gracefully on the warm, soft sand, and pulled Quatre down into his lap. 'Wow. I've got a boyfriend who can do stuff like that. It's like dating a superhero! What else can you do; buy some halfway decent players for Sanque United so they might actually have a chance at the next World Cup?'

'Now, you're being silly,' Quatre scolded, twisting around to look at his boyfriend. 'Although…I suppose it is good to know what you might want for your birthday.'

'Cat…I was joking.'

'Oh, so was I. Honestly! I'm not _that_ wealthy or anywhere near it. I get a good salary and I have shares in WEI, but I certainly couldn't buy a football team or anything like that.'

'Damn.' Trowa wrapped both arms around Quatre's waist, pulling him closer. 'I was hoping I'd got lucky with you, and found someone to keep me in the sort of luxury I'd like to become accustomed to. You're really just a wage slave like everyone else?'

Quatre soulful sigh was utterly belied by the twinkle in his eyes. This was so much sheer fun. Trowa knew who he was, and had accepted it and everything in the universe was perfect. 'I do hope you're not _too_ disappointed.'

'Devastated. Although, if you really tried, you might be able to find some way to make it up to me.'

'Might I?' Quatre leaned forward, ghosting kisses over Trowa's face. 'Really? What would I have to do?'

'Uh, forget about the whole no-PDA ground rule for a start?'

'Well, we are on a deserted beach….with no one else around…that probably means it doesn't count as public, as such. Not when it's just the two of us…'

'Just us,' Trowa confirmed, moving his mouth over Quatre's, placing a hand on each hip and shifting him so two very sensitive pieces of anatomy came into searing, urgent contact.

'Oh, God.' Trowa's mouth was on his throat suddenly, alternately delivering sharp little nips and slow, nibbling kisses, and one hand was fondling between his legs and then the delicious, building pleasure suddenly crested and flooded. 'I can't believe I did that! I've never done that before, not in my clothes. That was amazing!' Quatre made a face; finding the aftermath of having sex fully dressed to be considerably less pleasant than the deed itself. 'Ugh. I'm all sticky.'

'Take your clothes off,' Trowa suggested, grinning devilishly. 'There's the whole sea to clean up in, and I really like the idea of you being commando for the rest of the day. Have you ever been skinny dipping before?'

'I can't!' Quatre objected, a lifetime of L4 modesty suddenly leaping forward.

'Sure you can, Cat. I've seen you naked before and I don't have any problems with it. and there's no one else around to see. Which is good, 'cause I don't want anyone else looking at you.' He stood up, tipping Quatre at his feet, and starting to take off his own clothes.. 'Get a move on, Winner. You were bitching about being all icky sticky a second ago. Time to get you naked and cleaned up.'

'Are you always going to bully me around like this?' Quatre nonetheless accepted Trowa's outstretched hand, letting himself be pulled up. He wasn't entirely averse to the idea; especially not when Trowa was rapidly becoming naked and it was very, very obvious that his boyfriend hadn't come and was more than ready to.

'Let's see.' Trowa's head, hair even messier than usual, emerged from the neck of his t-shirt. 'Am I always going to order you to strip and drag your clothes off if you're too slow about it? Oh, yeah, I think the answer to that one would be a very definite yes.'

'Yes, _sir_!' Quatre threw him a mock salute. What was the point in being modest? Trowa had seen him naked; they had the whole world, stretching to the horizon all to themselves, and no one would be able to see them from the road, through all those trees and bushes.

He still shivered faintly as he peeled off his briefs. A combination of cool air – there was a chilly breeze coming in form the sea – and Trowa's eyes on him. And …other parts of Trowa's anatomy that were very clearly attuned to his presence – his naked presence.

'Want me to warm you up a bit?' Trowa's mouth quirked as he glanced down at himself. 'I'd better warn you now; the water's going to be damn cold. If you'd like to help me with this little problem, you might want to do something now.'

'Little?' Quatre teased, dropping to a crouch at Trowa's feet. God, he couldn't believe he was being this….brazen. And loving every second of it. 'Not that little, really. You know, Duo did say I should promise to be your sex slave for all eternity and you'd forgive me for lying to you.'

'Duo's a sensible guy,' Trowa said hoarsely. 'Shit, you should have just said that from that very beginning and I'd have let you away with anything.' Quatre was gentle at first, just lips and tongue and fingertips, and then he suddenly stopped being gentle and Trowa screamed, hands tightening on Quatre's shoulders.

'So I get my very own sex slave?' he mused, when they were both sprawled all over each other on the sand, not quite ready to summon the energy to get clean. 'I really like the sound of that.'

'And the sight?' Quatre teased, cuddling closer.

'Mm, yeah. And the feel of you, and the taste and the sound you make when you come.'

'I like those things about you too.' Quatre tucked his head into Trowa's shoulder, suddenly a little shy. 'A lot.'

One large hand slid down his back, squeezing his buttocks gently. 'Shit, I wish I hadn't left my bag back in the car.'

'We could … improvise. Don't you think?'

'Seawater and spit?' Trowa's tongue sneaked out and licked a slow, sensuous trail along Quatre's jawline. 'You taste all salty. Yum. It wouldn't be enough, Cat. How long's it been for you?'

'A while,' Quatre looked down and their joined hands, suddenly aching with the need to be even closer. And this would be the perfect, perfect place, with the waves lapping gently around them, and a whole world to themselves. 'You could…go back to the car. Very quickly. If you wanted.'

'I could,' Trowa mused. 'It's a long way though. And I'd have to get dressed again. You know, a good slave would do it for me.'

'We sex slaves never have to perform actual physical tasks,' Quatre stretched languidly against that long, lean body. 'We need to save all our energy for pleasing our masters. They don't usually complain.'

'Some slave you are. No notion of obedience; you're going to need some serious training.'

'That sounds awfully like fun!'

Trowa sighed. 'Brat. How long d'you reckon it would take me to run back to the car and get back here?'

'Not long,' Quatre said eagerly. 'Not long at all.'

'Right.' Trowa flipped them over, so he was lying on top, looking into Quatre's eyes. 'Sure about this?'

'Very sure! I would have, last night, if it hadn't been for Ellie. Trowa, you're sure no one's going to come along?'

'It's a work day and too early in the season for tourists. No one ever comes out here anyway; there are nicer beaches closer to the city. It's too rocky here and there's a current. No one's going to see us. And if they do, I'll murder them so they can't tell. Now, I want you to stay there, and not move a muscle. Got that?'

'Yes, master.'

A week ago, he could never have imagined doing something like this, not in his wildest fantasies, Quatre thought hazily. Lying naked on a beach, in plain sight, and about to have sex for the first time with the man he'd fallen in love with.

When Trowa came back, he was carrying a large towel as well as his small backpack. He spread the blanket for Quatre to lie on; producing a large tube of lubricant and an unopened packet of condoms.

'Are we going to need these?'

Quatre was abruptly scarlet, eyes fixed on the brightly patterned blanket beneath him. 'We should. I've always been careful, but I have been with other people, fairly recently. Just in case.'

'No bother.' Trowa tore the packet open. 'I had actually had a full medical check last month, for my insurance and there's only been you since then. You could look at getting cleared and then do it the fun way. OK?'

'Oh, yes please.'

'Good! Now, come here, and show me exactly what you meant about saving your energy for pleasing me.'

It wasn't like any of his experiences on L4. Quatre curled up in Trowa's arms, and began to kiss his mouth, very slowly, letting each kiss press a little deeper. It wasn't just going to be a hurried act between two strangers who were only seeking a physical release, and perhaps a moment's fantasy of real intimacy.

He and Trowa could take it slowly, enjoying each step along the way, and afterwards they could kiss and wash each other off, and walk away hand in hand. Together.

'How d'you like it, sweetheart?' Trowa questioned softly, reaching for the lube and slicking his fingers. 'Nice and slow?'

'Slow is good. Really good.' Quatre moaned blissfully, rocking himself gently on the finger that had slid between his legs.

'Slow it is,' the tall man echoed, tongue invading Quatre's mouth even as he added a second finger.

It felt wonderful; the slow, sure possession. Much, much better when Trowa withdrew his fingers, and shifted to lie on top.

'Can't promise this part will be all that slow.' Trowa's eyes, glowing down at him, were a deep, jade green. 'I really, really want you.'

'I want you too.'

It all came down to purest sensation after that. Trowa plunging inside him, hands gripping Quatre's hips, those green eyes gazing down and that low, husky voice murmuring his name.

'Quaaaaaatre…'

He'd never thought his name could sound sexy. It did, when Trowa screamed it like that; wrapped up in need and desire and lust and ecstasy, all his syllables sent flying out to sea.


	22. Freudian Slips

Note : thanks, as always to KS for editing and to everyone who has been kind enough to review.

**Freudian Slips:**

Zechs.

Zechs.

Zechs.

Zechs.

It had become something of a mantra for Duo, repeated over and over in his mind.

He had a boyfriend and his boyfriend was called Zechs. Not Heero.

Zechs.

Heero.

Shit.

_Zechs._

Shit, shit, shit. He couldn't believe he'd made that little slip in front of Cat earlier. Luckily, the poor guy had been far too wound up about Trowa to pay any attention. Actually, he'd been so worried that Duo could have probably had sex with Heero on the shop counter and he wouldn't have noticed.

_Gah! _

He could have had sex with Zechs, _Zechs_, _**ZECHS**_ on the shop counter and Cat wouldn't have noticed.

Poor guy. Duo sincerely hoped that Trowa was taking the news well. After all, it wasn't like Cat was a serial killer, or married, or something. Some guys would be thrilled to bits to find their boyfriend came from one of the wealthiest families in the universe. Tro would probably blow his top.

Still, the cute blond seemed pretty good at getting 'round him, and Trowa wasn't a stupid guy. He'd rant and rave for a bit about being lied to, and how honesty was the most important part of a relationship, and then Cat would give him one of those anguished looks from his big blue eyes, and Tro would melt.

At least, he'd better, or Duo would kick his ass for him, because Cat was a sweetheart, and it was good to see Tro emotionally involved with someone. Even if it had hurt like hell at the start.

But it was better now. After all, Duo had a boyfriend of his own, called ZECHS. It was time to move on.

He still didn't know where that _Heero_ had come from. He'd met the guy twice, and while he was very nice and everything, it was obvious that nothing would ever happen between them. He didn't know for sure if Heero was gay. And he didn't even live on the same planet, and would presumably be going to back to space soon.

He might never even get to see him again. Well, no that probably wasn't true. He was Cat's friend and it looked like Cat would be sticking around.

Fingers crossed.

Anyway.

It was a quiet morning; weekdays usually were. There were a couple of older ladies browsing through the shelves, looking for gifts for grandchildren, and a mother with two cute little twin girls who came in all the time. No one needed any assistance, which left far too much time to think about stuff.

Zechs was pretty damn perfect, when you got down to it. Duo bent quickly under the counter to hide a sudden, wicked grin that had no place in a kids' bookshop. He'd _got down_ to it last night, no question.

Zechs was attractive and sexy and attentive and generous and really seemed to be into him. Sure, there'd been a couple of teething problems the previous night, but they'd settled them and ended up having a great time. Zechs had been a total gentleman, not pressuring Duo in the least to do anything, and because of that, he'd ended up hopping into bed with the blond.

Well, that and the fact that Zechs was _gorgeous _and Duo was a healthy young gay man with all his faculties intact who hadn't been with anyone for a while, and who the _hell_ was going to turn down a handsome prince, for God's sake?

They hadn't done IT actually, but they'd done a whole lot of other stuff, some of which Duo had thought was only ever done in porn flicks, but apparently could be done in real life too.

_Shazam! _

So he had the perfect partner, and they'd had the most perfect night of sex, which was why he was alternatively yawning, and finding himself with a huge shit-eating smile on his face, and then circling back to the _Heero_ comment.

Gah. It was logical enough. Heero was Cat's friend; he'd been talking to Cat. Except Zechs was also Cat's friend, but he'd really seen them together once for about two seconds, so he associated Cat with Heero and not Zechs and…

Ooh. Customer. Duo commented politely on the elderly lady's choice, and let her talk about her seven year old grandson, who was into dinosaurs and football, and suggested a couple of other titles a kid like that might enjoy.

He loved this part of his job. Zechs might have said that he was _just_ a shop assistant, but it wasn't true. He loved getting to talk books, especially to kids, imagining them going home and reading the book he'd recommended in bed, or maybe having a parent or older sibling read to them.

He'd always imagined having a childhood like that, growing up. It was nice that in some small way he was helping other kids to have it.

The next customer wasn't a customer at all, but a giant flower arrangement on legs. Well, that was what it looked like at first. Duo got the delivery guy to put it on the floor beside the counter and then had to listen to his female customers gushing about how imaginative and exotic and unusual it was, and tease him gently about how it was about time he had 'someone special' in his life.

That was one of the cool things about living in a very liberal country. Everyone knew he and Trowa were gay and no one cared. Sometimes, regular customers got a bit too nosy, actually.

The flowers were certainly…exotic. They weren't even flowers, most of them. There were twigs bent into all kinds of weird shapes, and spray painted, and leaves and a couple of flowers that looked like they came from an alien world and a few …seed pod things that looked like they might actually have aliens living inside them. Duo couldn't imagine them in his apartment. He wasn't really sure at which point you could tell your boyfriend you didn't really like those sorts of showy arrangements. Zechs obviously did; he'd had a similar display on his hall table.

Zechs called as Duo was hefting the thing –which weighed a ton – over to the coffee table by the window, the counter being occupied by the first arrangement Zechs had sent him. He was really going to have to find somewhere to keep them.

'Good morning.'

'Hey. I just got the flowers. Thank you! They're really…um, unusual.'

'But not quite to your taste?'

'Not really. I'm sure they're really fashionable and the cutting edge of floral design and all, but they're not really me. I'm sorry.'

Zechs just laughed. 'Don't be. I love the fact that you're so unsophisticated. Tell me, darling, what sort of flowers _do_ you like?'

Darling. Wow. No one had ever said that before. And was it a good or bad thing to be unsophisticated? Duo supposed he was, compared to Zechs anyway, but it was just who he was.

And he'd said _love_. Actually used the L word.

'I like wild sorts of flowers, like you see in the countryside. Bluebells and cherry blossoms and things. And roses are nice. Tro hates them, though, so you maybe shouldn't send any to the shop.'

'Roses.' Zechs groaned. 'They're such a cliché.'

'I like the smell. Zechs, you don't have to keep sending me flowers, you know.'

'But I happen to like giving you things. There are some things I like giving you very much indeed. As you may possibly have noticed.'

Duo blushed. He'd been given the blow job to end all blow jobs that morning, before he'd even been fully awake.

'You didn't get into trouble for being late this morning, did you? If so, I hope you told Trowa that it was all my fault.'

'No, it was fine. It was only a few minutes and Tro's not that kind of boss anyway.'

'I'm glad to hear it. Duo, I'm going to have to go; I'm in the middle of a shoot. Will you have dinner with me tonight?'

'Sure. That'd be great.'

'Good. I know a lovely little seafood restaurant by the harbour. Ah, you do eat fish, don't you? Once it's cooked?'

'Fish is fine,' Duo said, laughing. 'Once it's not flapping about on my plate.'

'Excellent. When do you finish work? I can pick up at the shop or at home.'

'Here's fine. And we close at six tonight.'

'Perfect. I'll make the reservations now. I can drop you home first if you want to collect anything.'

'Now, why would I need to do that?' Duo teased, smiling into the phone.

'Well, now.' He could hear the answering smile in Zechs' voice. 'I thought we might go to a club after dinner. And then you might decide you'd like to come home with me? So it might save time if you brought some clothes with you, rather than me having to take you to your apartment before work again. Does any of that sound like a possibility?'

'I suppose it's just about possible. Although it's my day off tomorrow, so I won't have to rush off.' Duo could feel his smile getting broader and broader; it would be fun to wake up in bed with Zechs without having to worry about being in time for work.

'Excellent. In that case, I'll see if I can take the day off as well, and we can spend it together. Would you like that?'

'I'd love it. Totally.'

'All right then. I'll see you at six. Let's see, I'll make a reservation for seven and I'll have time to drop you home to collect your toothbrush. You'll want to get changed for dinner anyway, won't you? I loved what you were wearing last night. Red is absolutely perfect on you.' He laughed. 'Of course, I loved taking it off even more. I've been thinking about that all morning. That and making plans for this evening.'

Duo hung up laughing, and then started worrying about clothes. Zechs' idea of a nice little restaurant was probably one with a strict dress code. Damn. If he and Zechs stayed together, he was going to have to invest in a whole new wardrobe.

And he couldn't exactly call Cat in the middle of his romantic break and ask to borrow something. He called Hilde instead.

'Hey, Hils! Any chance that you can come over for a few minutes? And bring coffee?'

'Yeah, I was planning to,' Hilde said perkily. 'I can only stay a few minutes though but I've got something to show you. Just give me a sec to tell Howie.'

She swung through the door a few minutes later, juggling two coffee cups, a plate of doughnuts and a newspaper.

'Hi! Just wait 'til you see what I've got! You know that paper; _Talk of the Town?_

Duo nodded; it was a gossipy tabloid that Hilde adored.

'Well, you'll never guess who's in it?'

'Shit! Not Cat?' Duo blurted it out without thinking and then wanted to bite his tongue off.

'Cat?' She gaped at him. 'Trowa's Cat? Don't be daft; why'd he be in something like that. He's just a tourist. Now, _look_!'

She flung the paper open and Duo was abruptly looking at himself, with Zechs, in full colour. It was a soppy sort of picture; they were holding hands, Zechs leading Duo down the grand staircase at that party. The text was pretty abysmal too; all about the Prince's new mystery man, and coy comments on them having left the party early.

Yuk.

'You're famous!' Hilde grinned. 'I can't believe I actually know someone who's got his picture in the paper! I'm going to buy an extra copy for myself, so you can keep this one. Now, tell me all about your date. Did you meet loads of famous people? Was it amazing?'

'It was pretty cool, yeah. And I went home with him after.'

'Duo, you dog!' Hilde spluttered coffee all over the counter.

'We didn't, you know. But it was really good, what we did. And I'm seeing him tonight.'

'You're really into him then?'

'I think so. I thought you weren't crazy about him.'

'I just didn't think he was your type, that's all. But if he makes you happy, that's all that's important, right? You'll have to ask Cat if he's got any straight friends. That Heero was gorgeous.' She sighed. 'It's not fair; all the cute guys I meet are only interested in each other.'

'He might be straight.'

Hilde snorted. More coffee splashed out of her nose on to the counter. 'Duh! He's _so_ gay! I thought gay guys could tell about other guys. He was staring at you all night in Sweepers. He _loooves_ you! He seemed nice. And I thought you liked him too.'

'Yeah, I did. But for all I know he might have gone home by now. He lives on L4 and he has a job; he might have had to go back.'

'Oh, well, you don't need two hot guys in your life! And talking of getting back, I'd better go. I swore I'd only be gone for two minutes. Call me tomorrow, OK?'

'OK.' Duo went to the door and waved her next door. Hilde might think it was super-cool to be in a newspaper; Duo wasn't so sure as all that. Still, with any luck no one else he knew read the thing. Maybe no one would find out. And in the meantime, he had to figure out an acceptable outfit for his dinner date.

The phone rang again just as he was mentally going through his wardrobe.

'Hi, Duo. I just wanted to call and let you know everything is fine.' Cat's voice bubbled over the line. 'Trowa and I had a long talk on the way here and we've sorted everything out.'

'That's brilliant!'

'It certainly is. I wanted to thank you for being so nice to me this morning. I took all your advice and it worked! I really owe you.'

'Don't be daft. You just have a great time with Tro. Where is he?'

'Getting something from the car. We just got to the guesthouse a few minutes ago. It's the most perfect place ever!'

'Yeah, I knew you'd really like it. Um, Cat, do you think I could ask you a massive favour? I'm going out with Zechs tonight, to this really fancy restaurant, and I was sort of wondering…'

'Duo, you don't have to ask! Take anything you like! I'll probably never wear half of them anyway. Oh, I'd better go. Trowa's back. Have a wonderful time.'

Things got busy after that; lunchtimes were always a bit hectic, with people from the local shops or offices calling in on their break. When things had calmed down a bit, Duo put the 'Back in 10 minutes; ring the bell if you're in a hurry' sign on the door, and headed upstairs to forage in Cat's wardrobe.

Zechs had mentioned red, so Duo choose a dark maroon shirt, trousers in heavy charcoal silk and a light, stone-coloured linen jacket. He looked like someone who had a gorgeous, aristocratic boyfriend and got snapped by the paparazzi all the time.

Sorted. Sartorial mission successful, Duo had a quick rummage in Trowa's fridge for lunch and ran back downstairs, hoping he'd look OK in this fancy restaurant.

Zechs certainly thought he looked OK, at the very least, when he collected him several hours later. 'You look good enough to eat,' he declared, leaning in to kiss Duo on the cheek. 'And I may be very tempted to do that later,' he added, dropping his voice. 'Are you ready?'

'Just give me two minutes. I need to check on Trowa's cats, and close the windows upstairs.'

'Don't be too long. I'm starving.' His tongue traced a delicate outline of Duo's ear. 'Before you go, may I ask you an enormous favour?'

'Sure.' How could refuse favours, of any size whatsoever, when their ear was being so sensuously licked? Besides, Duo had a pretty good idea that this favour would be one he'd enjoy participating in.

'How would you feel if I asked Heero to come to dinner with us? I know it's a date, but he doesn't know anyone in Sanque and it seems rather mean to leave him alone. I promise, I'll make it up to you after dinner.'

OK, not the favour he'd imagined. Not at all. It hadn't occurred to him that, although Heero and Zechs were friends of Cat's, they might be friendly with each other too. 'I don't mind a bit! I think it's really nice of you, actually.'

'My perfect Duo,' Zechs murmured. 'I am sorry, but we were talking on the 'phone this afternoon, and he sounded rather lonely.'

Zechs' 'little restaurant' turned out to be a converted boathouse and absolutely lovely. There were cut stone walls, and polished wooden floors and a terrace overlooking the sea.

'Like it?' Zechs asked, smiling across the table. 'Good. I've finally got something right. Even if I did invite an extra person along. Now, what wines do you like?'

They were discussing the menu – Duo trying not to drool at some of the choices – when Heero walked in, and that was fine. Zechs got a quick hug, Duo got a careful handshake.

He hadn't really imagined the two of them getting on, both being so very different, but it was obvious that they were very close friends; teasing each other about being obsessed with cameras and computers respectively. It was fun, and very nice indeed watching Zechs relax and just be himself, instead of going all out to impress and flirt. It would be interesting to see how Cat fit into the mix.

That gave Duo a sudden, slightly evil idea.

'Hey, guys, d'you think I could ask you something?' He suddenly found himself the focus of two pairs of very blue eyes. 'It's about Cat, actually.' He stared down at his plate for a second, trying to keep a straight face. 'The thing is, you guys know him well, right? I'm kind of worried about something. Tro's my best friend and he's spent years building up the shop. Cat seems like a really nice guy, and don't be offended 'cause I know he's your friend, but I'm just scared that he's a freeloader who might take advantage or something.' He bit his lip, hard, trying not to laugh at the two faces opposite him.

Oh, God, this was way too much fun.

'I don't think you need to worry about that,' Zechs said smoothly, but he'd apparently developed a slight twitch in his right eye.

'Really? Trowa's a sucker for anyone with a hard luck story, and a couple of days ago, he mentioned that he might be lending Cat some money and…'

'He knows,' Heero said flatly. 'Don't you?'

Duo nodded. 'That was the most fun _ever_! My God, your faces!'

'You brat!' Zechs gave his braid a tug. 'When did you find out?'

'A couple of things. I guess the real thing was meeting Wufei at the party and him talking about this missing Winner heir, and thought about this guy from L4 who'd just turned up and didn't like talking about himself. When I got home I googled Quatre Winner and found Cat.'

'Wufei?' Heero's eyes were suddenly on Zechs. 'Your Wufei? You never told me.'

'Chang, yes.' Zechs stood up abruptly. 'Excuse me. I have a couple of calls to make.'

'Ouch.' Duo winced, walking Zechs walk away. 'That's kind of a sore topic with him, right?'

'It is, yes.' Heero's tone was totally bland, but his eyes were fixed on the tall man heading for the door.

Oh, shit. Maybe he had a thing for Zechs too.

'Don't worry; it's ancient history,' Heero told him kindly, obviously mistaking the reason for Duo's frown. 'And now he's got you. It's very nice to see you again, by the way.'

'Yeah, me too. I wasn't sure if you were heading back home now that you'd seen Cat or hanging around for a bit. I suppose it makes sense to stay for a while. Since it's your first time in Sanque and you've come so far, you might as well have a bit of a holiday and do touristy stuff, right?'

'I've been here before,' Heero told him. 'I actually know the city fairly well. I've visited Zechs a few times, and I have some very good clients here.' He gave Duo one of those gorgeous smiles. 'I had a short message from Quatre this afternoon; I gather I may be visiting even more in the future, the way things are going for him and Trowa.'

'It's great, isn't it? He sounded on top of the world, when he called me, and he'd been really stressed this morning about telling Tro who he really was.'

Heero laughed. 'He's such a drama queen sometimes. I saw the way Trowa looked at him, that night we all went out for dinner. There was no way he was going to turn him down.'

'I know. Looks like it's happy ever after for those two, right? And it's nice that you'll be coming to Sanque. We could maybe hang out sometimes. All of us, I mean, not just us two. And obviously we will since you're a friend of Zechs' and I'm dating him and everything.' Shit. Talk about having diarrhoea of the mouth. A terminal case, obviously.

Heero just gave him the most glowing smile. 'I'd really like that. What sort of things do you enjoy doing?'

'I paint, I watch movies and I love music. I'm learning to play the guitar but I'm not very good. And I go cycling a lot. There are some great trails in the hills behind the Botanic Gardens; I go up there on most of my days off.'

'I know that place,' Heero leant forward enthusiastically. 'It's beautiful. If you're interested, we could maybe take a ride together sometime. When is your next day off?'

_Take a ride._

Duo took a deep breath. Duh Maxwell. He didn't mean it anything like that. He's not even gay, probably, despite what Hilde says. And I'm sure he's way too honourable to make a move on his friend's boyfriend.

'Yeah, that'd be cool sometime. Actually, I'm off tomorrow, but I'm spending the day with Zechs.'

'I'm afraid you're not.' Zechs dropped back into his seat, glancing apologetically at Duo. 'I'm sorry, but I'm going to have to work tomorrow. The magazine couldn't find a replacement at such short notice. But I should be finished in time to take you out for dinner.' He took a sip of his wine. 'I have an idea. If you don't have any other plans, maybe you could do something with Heero?'

_Do something…_ The images that passed through his mind made Duo blush and he didn't know how he managed to sound natural saying, "Uh, sure, we were talking about bike trails."


	23. Heero and Duo's Day Out

'Here you go.' Zechs pulled into the car park beside the Botanic Gardens, and handed Duo's bike out of the car; not the sweet sports car but an old hatchback he'd borrowed from his butler. That was fair enough; he obviously hadn't wanted to scratch his baby's paintwork.

'Thanks for driving me all the way up here. I could've just cycled.'

Zechs grinned. 'Not at all. I did my best to wear you out before we even got out of bed this morning; it's only fair that I act as your chauffeur. I'm a little disappointed though. I was harbouring lovely visions of you in skin-tight lycra.'

'Dream on.' Duo gave him a quick kiss and a fleeting glance down at himself. No lycra; just torn jeans and a faded, washed-out t-shirt. 'This isn't the Tour De France; it's a mountain biking trail. I'll probably be covered in mud after the first mile.' He pointed up at the hills behind them. 'Not much point putting on nice clean clothes.'

'Well, don't hurt yourself. And don't get lost up in the wilderness.'

'Hardly wilderness,' Duo grinned. 'Don't you ever come up here? There are some great hikes.'

'Not really my thing.' Zechs pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. 'But if you're going to come home all muddy and sweaty, you may possibly need someone to wash you clean this evening before we go out?'

'Might do.' Duo looked up into those warm blue eyes. 'Though actually, I'll be clean before you see me. Remember? I have to go to work for a couple of hours this afternoon. Is there a plan for tonight? It might be nice just to stay in.'

'Hmm, tempting.' Zechs bent his head to give him a much longer kiss. 'Not tonight though. I thought I'd told you; I've got tickets to a film premiere. Or would you rather go somewhere else?'

'No, it's fine. I just forgot.' He vaguely remembered Zechs saying something, but he was incredibly good at multi-tasking and his hands had been doing something that made it impossible to concentrate on what his mouth was saying. 'And I love going to the movies. What's the film again?'

'I have no idea.' The blond gave him an indulgently amused smile. 'No one goes to those sorts of things to see the film; they go to be seen themselves.'

'Right.' There'd probably be more photographs in the tabloids then, and _shit_, he'd have to see if Quat could lend him a tux or something.

'It'll be fun,' Zechs told him. 'There's a champagne reception first; if it's boring, we can leave after that.'

That kind of negated the whole point of going to the cinema in Duo's opinion, but then this was probably all part of Zechs' job. He needed to keep a high profile.

'Actually, that sounds quite appealing. We can just stay long enough to meet a few people and then I'll take you home and entertain you for the rest of the night. How does that sound?'

'You really want me sleeping at your place again? Third night in a row?'

'Very much so. Although I can't promise how much sleep you'll get at.' Zechs looked at his watch. 'I'd better go, Duo. Have fun with Heero.'

_Don't say stuff like that. God, I'm turning into a nymphomaniac! I've got the most perfect boyfriend on God's earth and I'm fantasising about his best friend._

The best friend in question turned up five minutes later, and every fantasy sprang back into life. Heero was wearing dark blue cycling shorts and a skin-tight vest. The outfit left a lot of skin on display, and nicely accentuated what little was covered.

'Good morning.' Heero pulled to a halt, sweeping off his helmet to reveal that his hair was even messier than usual. 'Am I late? I'm sorry.'

'Nah, I'm early. Zechs dropped me off.'

'In the Ferrari?' Heero's eyes widened. 'He must be crazy about you if he risked getting its paintwork scratched.'

'He's not that crazy about me,' Duo chuckled. 'He borrowed his butler's car. That's a cool bike you've got.'

Heero grunted. 'It's all right. The hotel concierge hired it for me. What model is yours?'

Duo grinned. 'An original Maxwell 2000. I built it myself, pretty much; found most of the parts in scrap-yards.'

Heero looked impressed. 'I'd like to have a ride, if I may later?'

_Clean, pure thoughts, Maxwell. He's probably straight._

'Sure. Which way do you want to go?'

'I looked up some routes on line last night. There's a long trail that goes through the hills and back by the coast, if you don't mind spending most of the day out here.'

'Sorry, I can't. I had a text from Trowa earlier. He and Quat want to stay out at Prospect Point for the day, and our part-time girl can't really hold the fort for the whole day alone. I told him I'd go in the afternoon for a few hours. We can do one of the shorter trails.'

'That's fine. I think you know your way around better than I do. Any preferences?'

_Shit._

'Uh, I was thinking we could head up to Pine Peak.' Duo pointed. 'That's the tallest hill. It's a pretty hard slog to the top, but there's a couple of nice view points when you get there, and the trail down is amazing. Zig zags straight down through the forest.'

'That sounds great.'

Heero took off like they were in a race; Duo was tempted to try to take over for a second and then decided to save his energy. Anyway, cycling along behind at a more leisurely pace gave the perfect opportunity to ogle his ass. Ahem, admire the beauties of nature.

And Heero Yuy's ass was one of them, for sure.

Heero was waiting for him a few minutes up the trail. Duo felt a quick little jet of irritation that the other man obviously felt he had to wait and then noticed Heero's upraised hand.

A small chestnut-brown doe and her fawn crossed the path a few yards up.

'That was amazing!' Heero's smile was beautiful; totally awe struck. 'I can't believe we're only a short drive from the city and there are wild animals.'

'Yeah, it's cool isn't it? I've seen deer a few times before, and rabbits and squirrels and sometimes a fox.'

'Sorry I took off like that. It's a while since I've been on a bike, apart from the exercise bike in my gym.'

'No places like this on L4?' Duo pulled out his water bottle and took a long swallow. There weren't on L2 but L4 was by far the wealthiest of the colonies.

Heero made a face. 'There are artificially created environments. Some of them are rather good, if you haven't seen the real thing. When Quatre's free, we sometimes go biking or horse riding in the desert, but it's not so much fun alone. I cycle to work sometimes, but there's too much traffic usually.'

'I cycle everywhere,' Duo told him, taking another swig of water, watching Heero take out his own canteen and do the same. 'Of course, that's partly 'cause I don't have a car! You ready to go on?'

The trail was wide enough in places to cycle side by side, and they rode together to the top, stopping now and then to take another drink. .

'D'you mind if we stop for a minute before heading down?' Duo pulled over to one side and dismounted. 'I swear, I'm not usually this much of a wuss, but I had a late night last night.'

Heero nodded, propping his bike against a tree trunk, and walking over to admire the view. 'I forgot; Zechs said you were planning to go to a nightclub after dinner. Did you have a good time?'

'Well, the music sucked, and most of the people there were total posers, and you do not even want to know how much a drink cost.' Well, Heero probably wouldn't care; he had a successful business of his own. 'Otherwise, it was a blast.'

'Zechs made you buy your own drinks?' Heero teased. 'That doesn't sound like him.'

'No, he didn't. He ordered a bottle of champagne that cost more than I'd spend on food in a month.'

Heero grinned and rummaged around in his small backpack. 'I'm sorry I can't offer you champagne but do you fancy a snack?'

'Sure!' Duo chose an apple and a handful of trail mix from the bag Heero held out. 'You really came prepared.'

'Fresh air always gives me an appetite.' Heero found a rock to lean his back against and flopped down, breaking an orange into segments. 'This is such a beautiful place. You're lucky to live here.'

'I know,' Duo said sincerely. 'I don't come up here often enough, actually. Like you said, this is more fun with someone else and Tro and I hardly ever get to be off the same day, with the shop and all. We do try to make it in the summer sometimes, when the evenings are longer.' He tore his glance away from Heero's outstretched bare legs, and looked down at the city before them. 'I'll have to bring Zechs up here sometime.'

Heero grinned around his muesli bar. 'I'm not sure if he's all that into the great outdoors. Not this sort of thing anyway. I dragged him out cycling once and he bitched for hours afterwards about how tangled his hair got.'

'Oh.' Duo scarfed down the last of the raisins in his hand. It didn't matter. No one said couples had to have all the same interests. He and Zechs liked sports cars and they were very compatible in bed, and they liked each other. That was plenty.

Going back down the mountain was sheer fun. They were both out of breath, muddy and sporting scrapes from tree branches when they finally reached the bottom.

'That was so cool!' Duo gasped. 'God, nothing like that for an adrenalin surge, is there?'

Heero grinned. 'Piloting your own plane, galloping a fast horse cross country and really good sex. They're the only things I can think that come close.'

Duo gulped, suddenly crimson. He'd never thought Heero would come out with a line like that. Obviously, not all Quat's friends weren't as sweet and innocent as he was. Then again, he already knew that.

Zechs certainly wasn't.

He took a long swallow of water to cool down, noticing Heero was doing the same, and the way his throat muscles moved as he gulped the cool liquid.

'So…are you, um, seeing anyone right now?'

'You?' Heero quipped, giving Duo a long look, and then grinning. 'Sorry. I have a terrible sense of humour. No, I'm single at the moment.'

Bah. He was still no closer to knowing whether the man was gay or straight. Not that it remotely mattered or anything.

'Ah, I'd better get going actually. I told Middie I'd try to get to the shop by one, so she could go and get lunch.'

'You don't have to go home and change?'

'I've got a change of clothes in my rucksack. There's a cold shower by the visitor's centre, so I'll just go and sluice off first.'

Heero frowned slightly. 'You shouldn't have a cold shower while you're overheated. I have a better idea. Why don't you come back to my hotel and use my bathroom? Then I can drive you to the shop?'

'Oh, no, you don't have to go to all that trouble for me. Seriously, it's fine.'

'We are not having this conversation again,' Heero told him. "It is no trouble, you were gracious enough to spend your morning off keeping me company, and I'm planning to go to Wish anyway this afternoon. The other night, I told Trowa I'd upgrade the security system on his computer.'

'OK, then,' Duo grinned at him. 'If you really don't mind, that'd be great.'

'Of course I don't mind. It's the least I can do for Zechs' boyfriend.'

Oh. Well, that was all it was then. Just being nice to his friend's partner.

Stupid to think anything else.

They were both quiet as they loaded the bikes into the back of Heero's car and drove off; somehow the sparkle had gone from the day.

'Wow.' Duo tried not to gape as they walked through the hotel foyer. 'Are you a gazillionaire like Cat?'

'Nowhere near it,' Heero assured him. 'I'm only staying here because Quatre gave me his suite. Do you really like it? I think It's all far too overdone; all the crystal and gilded furniture. I'm terrified that if I stand still for long enough, someone will try to cover me with gold leaf, or drape handmade lace over me.'

Duo burst out laughing, wondering if the place would be to Zechs' taste. 'Yeah, it is pretty grotty actually. Those paintings are truly dire.'

'I know. I far prefer yours.' He slid a door open. 'Here we go. The bathroom's just through here.'

'Wowsie!' Duo gaped at the sunken bath and the enormous, walk-in shower. 'If I get into either of those, you might never get me out again.'

Heero laughed. 'No problem. Take your time.'

'Can't,' Duo said regretfully. 'I really have to be back at Wish sometime this century. Plus my hair always takes ages to wash and dry.'

'I can imagine.' Heero grinned at him. 'You do realise you've got a fair amount of forest in your braid?'

Duo groaned, reaching around to feel his hair bristling with twigs and leaves. 'Yeah, that always happens. It's OK. Most of them will fall out once I unbraid it.'

Heero slid one hand down the long braid, gently disentangling an oak leaf and placing it on the corner of the bath. 'You have enough kindling here to start a fire. Right, I'll leave you to it then. There's no rush.'

'OK.'

The shower was glorious, if not quite glorious enough to distract Duo from thinking about the man in the bedroom outside, in all his lycra-ed perfection.

Bad thoughts, Duo.

The worst, worst thing was that it wasn't just physical any more. That could have been shrugged off easily enough. Of course a healthy young guy was going to have a certain reaction to that level of physical beauty. It was normal.

But he liked Heero a lot. They'd had fun racing down the mountain, no quarter given or expected, but still keeping an eye on each other. And it had been nice just sharing snacks and talking and admiring the view. Heero didn't seem to be the sort to put on an act; he was happy being himself.

It was good, Duo told himself firmly, that he got on well with Zechs' friend. Only a good thing. And stupid to fantasise about that messy, tousled hair and what it might look like after sex, or the way those blue eyes glowed when he laughed.

Stupid.

Heero had ordered room service by the time he finally dragged himself away from the shower, and dressed. There was a table holding platefuls of sandwiches and a platter of pastries and sliced fruits. 'I was starving,' he looked up and smiled at Duo. 'I thought you probably would be too.'

'You really take looking after your friend's boyfriend pretty seriously, don't you?' Duo commented, biting into a roast turkey sandwich. It wasn't all that great; the turkey was a bit dry and some mayonnaise or something would have been nice.

'Ah.' Heero put down his own salad roll, picked it up again, and shredded some lettuce on his plate. 'Is that what I said to upset you earlier? I didn't mean to.'

'You didn't upset me,' Duo said quickly.

'No. Of course not. I just got the impression that somehow things had changed. You were very quiet on the way here. Never mind, I should go and shower. Enjoy your lunch.'

'Thanks.' Duo picked at his sandwich, appetite vanished. This was all just…too much. He couldn't work Heero out, not remotely.

Middie ran off to lunch as soon as they got to Wish, after giving Heero a quick once over.

'It's great to meet you. Duo said you were gorgeous with amazing blue eyes, but I though you were blond.'

'No, that's Zechs,' Duo said quickly. 'He's my boyfriend. This is Heero; he's a friend.'

'Nice friend.' She winked at him. 'Bye, Heero. It was nice to meet you.'

'Sorry about that,' Duo offered Heero a somewhat embarrassed smile.

Heero grinned at him. 'It was a natural enough mistake. And I do have blue eyes, after all.'

'You do, yeah.' And they were utterly gorgeous; a warmer, deeper blue than Zechs'. Duo had seen icebergs on TV; ice could look blue in certain slants of sunlight. Zechs' eyes were like that. Heero's were like a deep, tropical sea, that you could dive into and swim forever.

Oh, God.

He wasn't sure which of them had moved, or both, but Heero's eyes, and all the rest of him were suddenly way, way too close, and Heero's long fingers were tilting his chin upwards.

'Zechs said you had violet eyes,' he murmured. 'I thought he was just exaggerating but it's perfectly true.'

'Yeah, it kind of depends on the light,' Duo muttered.

'And your mood, hmm?'

Heero's eyes were incredible, totally focussed on him. Duo swallowed. 'Probably. Uh, Heero, we shouldn't…'

'I know.'

The door banged open and Duo practically leaped away. Oh, _shit_. It was Hilde; of course it bloody well was; barging in just when he'd almost been about to kiss his boyfriend's closest friend.

No, it wouldn't have happened. One of them would have remembered in time that they weren't supposed to do stuff like that.

Surely.

She gave Duo a wink and Heero a blinding smile. 'It's really nice to see you again, Heero.'

'You, too. Hilde, isn't it?'

'That's right. Duo, wait 'til you see what I've got!' She flourished the newest copy of _Talk of the Town_ in his face. 'Look!'

Duo looked at it warily. 'I'm not in there again, am I?'

'No. Not you this time.' She flicked it open. The photograph was crap; the sort you got if you used your camera's longest zoom, and then maximised it on a computer. If you didn't know who they actually were, it could have been any two men; one blond, one tall and dark.

'Oh, _crap_.' Duo groaned. 'Tro's going to go apeshit when he sees this. They were trying to be all discreet.'

'You _knew_ Cat was Quatre Winner?' Hilde demanded. 'You knew Tro's new squeeze was this mega-tycoon person! I can't believe you never said! What happened to us telling each other everything?'

'I only just found out for sure yesterday and he asked me not to tell anyone,' Duo said absently. He was looking at Heero. 'How bad is this for Cat? Quatre, I mean.'

'Not good. Well, you're from the Colonies; you know what it's like.'

'But they're not even doing anything!' Hilde, who'd lived her whole life in liberal Sanque, objected. 'They print _way_ worse pictures than that! You can't even see it's Tro and Cat really. What's the big deal?'

'It's a big deal on L4,' Duo told her. 'Plus he comes from this really conservative family. I guess they'll be pretty bummed over this.'

Heero nodded. 'Very much so.'

'Yeah, but they'll never know,' Hilde said. 'I mean, what're the odds of them seeing some crappy tabloid from Sanque?'

'They'll know.' Heero said it very positively, taking out his phone. 'Excuse me. I need to call Quatre.'

Hilde had the grace to wait until he'd gone into the stockroom and closed the door before whooping. 'Duo Maxwell! What's all this about?'

'Oh, don't.' Duo collapsed on the beanbag beside the counter and hid his head in his hands.

Hilde grinned. 'Should I apologise for interrupting? It looked like you two were about to go at it like horny weasels!'

'Well, we weren't. Nothing happened.'

She looked sceptical. 'Stop looking so guilty then.'

Duo lifted his head. 'I wanted it to. I wanted him to kiss me and I've _got_ a boyfriend and he's amazing, and I shouldn't be having thoughts about Heero.'


	24. Fantasy and Reality

Thanks to K.S. for beta – reading and to everyone who's been kind enough to review.

**Fantasies and Reality:**

'Do you know where I've always wanted to go?' Quatre asked suddenly. It was late enough that the sun was streaming into through the lace curtains of their guesthouse bedroom. A half-formulated plan to watch the sunrise had been abandoned some hours ago; Quatre had actually made it out of bed, but been hauled back the minute he'd bent down to find his jeans.

They'd behaved rather well the previous evening. After checking into the guesthouse, and spending an hour wandering around the village they'd found a nice little seafood restaurant for dinner, followed by a drive out to the lighthouse to watch the sunset, and then the moon come up.

Unfortunately, there had been other people there; locals out jogging or exercising their dogs or just enjoying a lovely spring evening. They'd got to hold hands at one point, climbing up some sand dunes, but otherwise they hadn't touched each other.

They'd more than made up for it once they'd got home and locked the bedroom door. After a good twelve hours of sex, with intermittent naps, Quatre was in a daze of sheer bliss. He'd fallen into his perfect daydream and it was real. Trowa, magically, seemed to feel like that too.

Trowa grinned. 'Nope. But I know where I'd really _like_ you to go right now.'

'Trowa, no!' Quatre groaned. 'I'm exhausted.'

'No stamina, that's the trouble with you colonial types.' He bent his head slightly, giving Quatre a quick kiss on the lips. 'I don't know what you're tired for. I'm the one who did all the work. _Ouch_!' He winced as a well-placed elbow jabbed him in the ribs.

'And I suppose I just lay here and thought of L4?' Quatre teased back.

'Yeah, pretty much.' Trowa managed to grab the blond's arms just in time to avoid another blow. 'Maybe next time I'll make you go on top?'

'Would you? Really?'

'Sure, if you want. Now, tell me, where's this place you've always wanted to go to?'

'Oh.' Quatre's mind spiralled back to that topic. 'I've always dreamed of going to Jamaica or somewhere like that. You know, a place with beaches and palm trees and hammocks.' He glanced up at Trowa, trying to read his lover's expression. 'I don't know if that's your sort of thing, is it? I just thought it might be fun. One day.'

'Let me get this straight.' Trowa was frowning slightly. Oh, drat. He obviously wasn't into that sort of holiday. Well, of course not. He liked hiking and horse-riding; he'd probably hate the idea of lazing about on a beach all day sipping chilled fruit juices and watching the sunset before dinner. 'You're asking me if I'd be interested in flying off to the Caribbean or somewhere with you, I assume going first class?'

'Well, I was thinking we could charter a private jet.'

'Naturally. And you'd want to stay in some top-end luxury resort, right?'

'Actually, I like the idea of renting a private villa with its own pool and beach. Somewhere with total privacy so we can go around naked all the time!'

Trowa burst out laughing. 'You're really getting into this whole skinny-dipping thing. So..the deal is we fly out to a luxury villa where we can have sex wherever and whenever we want?' He paused dramatically, a small frown between his brows. 'When can we leave?'

'Really?' Quatre asked excitedly. 'You'd like a holiday like that? I'm afraid I can't go anywhere until I've talked to my father. Maybe after I get back from L4 if you can get Duo to take care of the shop?'

Trowa rolled on top suddenly, pinning Quatre to the mattress. 'Wait. You're actually serious about this?'

'Of course. Weren't you?'

'Quatre, when most people talk about doing stuff like that, it's just a fantasy. Not something they're actually planning to do.'

'Oh.' Quatre chewed on his bottom lip. 'I thought … it would be something nice for us to do.'

'Something nice,' Trowa echoed, looking up at the ceiling. 'I think I'm going to have to get used to having a billionaire for a boyfriend.'

'I'm not a billionaire!'

'By my standards you are.' Trowa rolled off him, pulling Quatre to face him. 'You do know people are going to think I'm only with you for your money? Your family; the press when they find out about us?'

When. Not if. Quatre swallowed hard. 'I know you're not. I don't care about anyone else.'

That won him a smile. 'Your immense family fortune doesn't remotely interest me. I'm only with you for your body.'

'Only?'

'Well, your body and your personality and your sense of humour and the way you moan when I kiss your cock and that thing you can do with your tongue.' He winked. 'Oh, I suppose the fact that you're loaded is a nice enough bonus.'

'You don't actually care, do you?' Quatre wondered. 'About the money?'

'Actually, no. I'd prefer it if you didn't have any of it.'

'I'm so sorry.'

'You can try making it up to me. The stress of having a rich boyfriend is a real killer.'

'I'm sure it is,' Quatre agreed sweetly. 'How can I make it up to you?'

'I thought you were tired.'

'I think I've got my second wind.'

'Prove it,' Trowa challenged.

'Prove it yourself,' Quatre retorted.

'Is that a challenge, Winner?' Trowa rolled on to his back. 'How about this time I just lie here, and you do the active stuff?'

Quatre pouted, rolling over on to his back, legs spread. 'Please? Don't you want me?'

Trowa did, very much, and set out to prove it.

'Wow.' It was all Quatre could manage afterwards, quite a while afterwards.

'Wow's good.' Trowa kissed him. 'Cat, d'you really not like topping?'

'I do, usually.' He hesitated. 'I just haven't let that many people take me like that. So it's special. And I love the feel of you inside me.'

'Just when I think you can't possibly get any more perfect,' Trowa groaned. 'I hate to say this, but we're going to have to go home at some point, you know.'

'Why?' Quatre burrowed deeper into his arms. 'It's so nice here. Why do we have to leave?

'Oddly enough, I can't think of a single reason right now.' Trowa's arms locked around him.

'Then we'll stay here for ever and ever.' Quatre's voice was slightly muffled.

'Ah, Cat. I wish we could.'

'I don't want to go back to the real world.'

'It's not such a bad place.' Trowa placed a gentle kiss on the blond's bare shoulder. 'I've got a pretty nice bed in my room, and we can make out in the stock room when there aren't any customers, and there are loads of places around Sanque I want to show you.' He paused for a minute. 'You know, even if we can't jet off to Jamaica straightaway, we could still take off somewhere for a couple of days. You said you really wanted to go hiking around Lake Nova; if I could get Duo to mind the shop, would you fancy that?'

'Oh, yes! That would be amazing. I'm just scared, Trowa. I'm so happy here, and I'm scared things won't work out.'

'They will if we make them.' Trowa sighed. 'Cat, if we want to be together, it'll happen. OK? Maybe it won't be all that easy, but we'll manage.'

'Mmm,' Quatre responded drowsily, smothering a yawn.

'Am I boring you that much?'

'No! No, I think it's lack of sleep catching up with me.'

'Fancy a nap?'

'Mmm. Should clean up first though.'

'Should, yeah. In a minute, OK?'

Trowa was the first to fall asleep; Quatre closed his eyes for just a second, maybe a couple of seconds. Neither of them woke until the first knock on the door.

'Mr. Barton?' Another knock.

'Oh, fuck.'

'What's the matter?' Quatre asked sleepily, opening his eyes.

'Someone at the door. I forgot to tell the owner we were planning on staying an extra night.'

The blond laughed. 'Oops! I hope she has the room free. If she doesn't, I'll have to buy this whole place for us.'

Trowa tugged a t-shirt on over his jeans. 'I knew that had to be some advantages to dating a rich guy! Be back in a sec, OK?'

'OK.' Quatre burrowed back under the quilt, inhaling the musky smells of Trowa, and sex, and sex with Trowa. Mmm, and more sex when his lover got back, although they should go and eat something first.

'Cat.' Trowa's voice sounded oddly strained when the door opened again. 'You need to get up.'

'What's the matter?' Quatre peeked out and then gasped. Rashid and Auda were crowding into the room behind his lover. 'What's going on?'

'Miss Iria sent us,' Rashid said flatly, throwing a newspaper on the bed. 'We have a serious problem. We need to take you away from here _now_.'

'_What_?' He sat up, remembered he was naked, and grabbed the sheet to cover himself.

'The car is downstairs, Master Quatre. Ten minutes, if you please. We don't have much time.'

The door closed heavily behind them; Trowa sat on the edge of the bed. 'Who the hell are those two and why are they ordering you around?'

'They work for my family. Security.' Quatre slid out of bed. Ten minutes; not enough time to shower. He'd have to have a quick wash instead.

'Wait!' Trowa caught his arm, pulling him back. 'You're just going to race off like that, on their say so?'

'Well…yes,' Quatre said uncertainly. 'They wouldn't be here if it wasn't important. There must be something wrong with my father, or some scandal at WEI. Something bad enough for me to have to get back.'

'Why didn't they just so say so, then?' Trowa picked up the paper. 'This is just some stupid tabloid. It doesn't even have a business page or…Oh.'

'Oh, what?' Quatre leaned over his shoulder and gasped. 'Oh my God. It's us!'

They were plastered all over the centrefold. A big colour picture of the two of them thae previous evening, on the beach. It was grainy and poor quality, obviously shot from a long distance, but it was unmistakably Quatre Winner holding another man's hand. There was a smaller picture in one corner of Quatre wearing a tuxedo with a pretty girl on his arm.

'Oh, _no_,' he whispered, scanning the text rapidly. It was all innuendo and allegation; the editor was obviously worried about lawsuits, but there were suggestive comments aplenty and anyone reading the article would be in no doubt that Quatre was homosexual and almost certainly sleeping with his 'mystery' male companion. 'This is a disaster.'

'Is it?' Trowa, apart from one brief, scathing glance, hadn't bothered to look again.

'Of course it is!' Quatre jumped up, rumpling the horrid paper and throwing it under the bed. 'It's _awful_. My family will be furious with me. I promised Iria I'd be discreet, and I'm in the tabloids. I'm in so much trouble!'

'A disaster,' Trowa echoed quietly. 'We talked about this, Cat. It was bound to come out at some point, right? Maybe it's better to get it over with. No one believes the crap these rags publish, and even if they do, who cares?'

'Everyone! My father and the girls, and all our shareholders and the people on L4. It's going to be a huge scandal. Iria's going to _kill_ me!'

'You,' Trowa stood up abruptly, pulling Quatre to face him, 'are going to calm down before you have a full blown panic attack. OK? Deep breath. I won't let anyone kill you and those bodyguards of yours probably won't either. You've done nothing wrong and you're seriously over-reacting. This is a sleazy piece of junk that people will be using for their dogs to piss on tomorrow. There's one shit-quality photo and a whole lot of stupid crap about you.'

Quatre forced himself to take the deep breath he'd been ordered to. Trowa just didn't understand. 'According to what my family believes, and most of the people on my colony, I have done something very wrong.' Suddenly something struck him. 'Oh! This was taken yesterday evening!' There had been other people on the beach, but no one had given the two young men a second glance, that he'd noticed. 'Trowa, whoever took this knew who I was! And where I was going to be. They must have! Someone who knew we were going away must have called a journalist and got them to send a photographer down here. This just keeps getting worse.'

Trowa stared at him. 'Cat, chill. You're making way too much of this. So someone took a picture of you; of us? What's the big deal? It's not like it's remotely graphic.'

'The big deal,' Quatre snapped, 'is that some journalist has been trailing us! What do you think happened; that a photographer just _happened_ to be taking an evening stroll on a very remote beach to watch the sunset and thought he'd take some random pictures on the off chance that some of them might be worth a fortune? They knew I was going to be here, so obviously someone who knew where we were going told on us.'

'And who exactly do you think that was?'

'I don't know. Duo knew. Or maybe your friend who's the journalist; he knew you were taking me away. And your sister.'

'None of them would do anything like that.' Trowa's tone was iced-over steel. 'Ever. Heero and Zechs knew as well, and _your_ sister. What exactly makes you so sure that it was one of my friends instead of yours?'

'They wouldn't! I'm sorry, I know Duo wouldn't. But you _are_ the one who knows a journalist with a grudge against my family.'

'I've told you, Wufei would never do something like that. Never.'

'Sorry,' Quatre mumbled. 'Sorry. He's your friend. I shouldn't have said that.'

'No.' Trowa's mouth was a hard line, rimmed with white. 'You've said quite a few things you shouldn't, while we're at it. What happened to you not caring about what people thought? Wasn't that the truth? You said yesterday you didn't mind people in Sanque knowing?'

'That was true! But it was just…just talking then. I didn't think it would happen like this, so soon.' Quatre gestured hopelessly to the crumpled paper under the bed. 'I thought we'd have more time.'

'More time for what, exactly? For you to come to your senses and realise this was a mistake?'

'No!'

'Well, that's what it looks like, from where I'm standing, Quatre. Yesterday, you claimed all you cared about was being with me. Now, you can't wait to ditch me head back to your nice, safe world with your bodyguards.'

'I'm sorry,' Quatre whispered, raising one of Trowa's hands and kissing the palm gently. 'Trowa, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean anything like that. I promise. I do want to be with you more than anything else, but I do have other responsibilities in my life. I told you that. I don't just get to do what I want.'

The loud knock on the door startled them both. 'Master Quatre. We need to leave now. The lady who owns this place has had calls from members of the press. They know where you are.'

'Oh. Right, one second.' Quatre muttered the words absently. 'Trowa, I have to go. I'm sorry. I can't…I don't want to go, but I can't just stay here, and Iria needs to see me.'

'Correction. _We_ have to go.' Trowa brushed a quick kiss against his lips. 'You don't get rid of me that easily, and I think it's time I met this sister of yours.'

'She…isn't likely to be in a very accommodating mood.'

'Nor am I,' Trowa pronounced grimly. 'Now, get your stuff.'

He flung open the door five minutes later. 'Right. We're ready. Quatre's coming with me. We'll see you back in the city.'

'Miss Iria specifically ordered us to drive Master Quatre back to the hotel,' Rashid objected.

'Well, Miss Iria couldn't be bothered to come and see her brother so she doesn't get a say in this.' Trowa opened the passenger door. 'Get in, Cat. We'll face down this sister, and then I'm taking you back to Wish and locking the door. Got that?'

'Master Quatre,' Auda cut in, 'Miss Iria said…'

'I'll talk to Miss Iria.' Quatre took a deep breath and got into Trowa's car. Despite what Trowa said, it was disastrous. Completely and utterly. There would be so much fall out from that tiny moment of handholding. And when he'd tried to explain to Trowa, he'd only been angry with him.

'What will happen,' Trowa asked as they pulled out, 'if you just say straight out that you're gay?'

Quatre shrugged. 'My family will disown me; I'll be dismissed from WEI so there will be total chaos over who takes over as the next CEO, and I may end up facing charges of indecency if I go back to L4.'

'And the alternatives?' Trowa was looking very fixedly at the road ahead.

'I'm not sure. I suppose we could deny the whole thing, which will be what Iria will want. Claim it's not a genuine photo, or that it's not really me or something and threaten to sue. Then our press office will probably arrange for me to be photographed with some beautiful girl and claim we're in love so obviously there's no possible way I could be gay.'

'What do _you_ want?'

'To go to Jamaica with you and lie in a hammock and drink cocktails out pineapples and coconuts.' One corner of Trowa's mouth lifted, very slightly, at that. 'I want to be with you. So much.'

'But not enough to risk your whole life?' Trowa reached down and took his hand. 'I get it, Cat. It's a big deal for you, all this. But I don't want to be in a relationship that's all deceit, and I don't want a boyfriend who's pretending to be something he's not. I can take us having to be discreet, but not having to lie outright.'

Quatre swallowed, hard. 'OK.' This was it then; Trowa quite obviously didn't want to get involved with the mess that was his life. It was hardly surprising. No one would.

'OK, what exactly?' Trowa pressed. 'OK, you want us to finish or OK, you're willing to face this down?'

'I don't want us to finish,' Quatre let the words tumble out of his mouth, meaning them. 'Please. I thought maybe you wanted to break up with me, and I wouldn't blame you. But I really like being with you, and I don't want things to end like this.'

'You mean that?'

'Oh, yes. You're right. Everything you've said. I – I don't want to be in a relationship like that either.' He firmed his chin resolutely. 'No lying. I'll work this out.'

'No.' Trowa's swift negative took him by surprise and then he realised the other man was smiling. '_We_ will. Come on, there has to be some sort of middle ground between you being prosecuted for being with me, and having to date a girl for appearance's sake. We'll find something.'


	25. Facing the Music

Note: Many thanks to Kaeru Shisho for editing and to everyone who' s reviewed.

**Facing the Music:**

After pulling up outside the hotel, Trowa flicked the car keys to an attendant, and took Quatre's hand as they walked inside.

'Trowa, you shouldn't do that. Not here.' Quatre tried to pull free as they walked through the lobby and Trowa tightened his grasp. 'People are looking.'

'If I want to hold my boyfriend's hand, I damn well will. Trust me; I know this place; half the city comes here for illicit liaisons. No way are they going to allow reporters inside. If people are looking at us, it's because your bodyguards looked like they just stepped out of an 'Arabian Knights' story.' He gave Rashid and Auda, trailing closely behind, a disparaging look. 'Seriously, did those guys never hear of blending in?'

Quatre couldn't help laughing. He supposed Trowa was right, really; he was just too used to the Maguanacs' costumes to notice they were a little strange.

'That's better.' Trowa gave him a warm look. 'Now stop looking like you're going to your execution, all right? We're just going to have a little chat with your sister, and sort out a couple of things, and then I'm taking you home to ravish the hell out of you.'

There were a couple of choked gasps and splutters behind them. Oh dear. If he said something like that in front of Iria, she would, well, Quatre didn't know what she would do but it wouldn't be at all pleasant.

'You don't have to come with me,' he said uncertainly. 'Really. I can do this by myself.' 

'I'm sure you can cope, but I certainly do have to come with you.' Trowa said it very firmly indeed. 'Your sister and I are going to have to meet at some point. May as well get it over with.' 

Quatre gave him a grateful smile. 'Thank you. She's just...not the easiest person. And I don't want her being rude to you.' 

Trowa shrugged. 'I've had plenty of experience with snarky sisters. Cathy's a nightmare if she doesn't have massive supplies of chocolate at certain times of the month. I'll cope.'

'OK. But Trowa, please, it's easier sometimes just to let her rant a bit. She usually calms down afterwards. I try not to pay too much attention to the things she says when she's angry. She doesn't really mean a lot of them. She's even apologised afterwards, a couple of times.'

'If she says anything to upset you, she'll be apologising straightaway.' Trowa's mouth set in a thin line. 'Right. Show time.'

Quatre suddenly realised that they were outside the Winner suite; it probably hadn't been too hard to work out they'd have the penthouse. 

'Well!' Iria glared at him from behind her desk as they entered. 'It's about time. I sent for you hours ago. And I assume this is the cause of all the trouble?'

'Trowa Barton.' Trowa put in, before Quatre had a chance to speak. 'Iria, I take it? I'm glad to meet to meet you at last.' 

Iria ignored his outstretched hand. 'We need to talk, Quatre. I hardly think this involves your...friend. It's quite inappropriate for him to be here.' 

'Boyfriend,' Trowa corrected, frowning. 'And yes, it does happen to involve me. More than anyone, I think.' 

'Rashid,' Iria said curtly, 'kindly escort my brother's …..companion outside. Now.'

'He's my _boyfriend_,' Quatre informed her. 'And he's right. This does concern him. I want him to stay.'

'You will please remember that you work for me!' Iria snapped, glaring at the Maguanacs. 'You take orders from me, not my little brother. Now, remove Mr. Barton from the room immediately.'

'Trowa is here because I invited him and this concerns him just as much as me.'

Trowa looked from brother to sister and suddenly burst out laughing. 'I bet you two were brats when you were little kids; always wanting the toys someone else had. Now, are we going to talk about this like adults or are you going to have a screaming match?'

'I think a rational discussion would be a very good idea.' Quatre spoke the words with a careful layer of dignity on top. Trowa was still holding one hand, the other, in his pocket, was shaking slightly.

'Fine.' Iria gave the Maguanacs a curt nod of dismissal. 'What exactly do you have to say for yourself? You promised discretion and now your sordid behaviour is splashed all over the newspapers for anyone to read?'

'I know.' Quatre swallowed, letting Trowa pull him down to sit on one of the couches. 'I am truly sorry, Iria. I never thought…I'm sorry.'

'Wait a second,' Trowa interrupted. 'Cat, what the hell are you apologising for? You've done nothing wrong.' 

Iria's lip curled. 'He most certainly has. This disgraceful exhibition is going to cause all sorts of problems that you can't even imagine.' 

'Hold on,' Trowa snapped. 'There is nothing _disgraceful _about anything your brother's done. You should be glad he's managed to find someone he cares about and who cares about him. That's how my sister feels. If you love Quatre, why can't you be happy for him? Or don't you think he deserves a little joy in his life?' 

'Joy?' Iria hissed. 'You think I should be happy that my little brother's been conned by some gold-digger? Hardly. Quatre's a very intelligent person, but he's a poor judge of character. Has he told you his last _boyfriend _is now trying to blackmail him?' 

'Stop it,' Quatre said suddenly. 'Please, both of you. Iria, I know you don't like my lifestyle, but it's who I am. That's never going to change, however much you want it to. I realise Trowa and I haven't known each other for long, but we are very serious about one another and that's not going to change either.' 

'You're being an idiot,' she said bluntly. 'God knows, it was bad enough with that Canadian, but you were just a boy then, and he led you astray. I might have thought you'd have learned a valuable lesson at that point. Apparently not.'

'Apparently not,' Trowa repeated. 'If you ask me, Cat's amazing. After an experience like that, he's still willing to take a chance on trusting someone, someone he doesn't even know very well. You should be proud of him.'

'Thank you,' Quatre breathed, glowing up at his boyfriend.

'Well, you would say that.' Iria sniffed disdainfully, shifting some files on her desk and producing a newspaper, open at that awful photograph.

'You asked what my brother has done wrong, Mr. Barton. I think this should answer your question. Making an exhibition of himself in public!'

'I am really sorry, Irry,' Quatre whispered, not daring to look at Trowa. By the standard of this country, he maybe hadn't done anything wrong. By L4 standards, he had disgraced himself and his family terribly. 'I never thought..there was hardly anyone around, and no one seemed to be paying attention to us at all.'

'It's rather late to be making apologies, now that the damage is done,' Iria informed him curtly, but her expression had softened, just a little. 'I've spent the past couple of hours consulting with our legal and PR experts. According to them, we have two choices. Firstly, we can take action against the owners of this rag for slander. The author has been very careful not to make outright accusations, plus homosexuality is legal in this country, so even saying so directly doesn't count as a derogatory comment.' She snorted. 'This is what freedom of the press does; it only causes trouble. Also, I've been further advised that the publication in question makes its money by printing ridiculously farfetched stories about celebrities.'

'Your hotel porter could have told you that,' Trowa said coolly. 'But I suppose you have enough money to waste on getting your tame lawyers to check it out.'

Iria ignored that comment. 'Apparently, they're well accustomed to being sued, and almost see lawsuits as a way of peddling more trash. I've been advised that to pursue the matter further would only inflame the situation. Also the photographer presumably has the originals, and can present them in court.' She pursed her lips. 'Of course, he could probably be bought off, but journalists can be awkward, with their absurd notions of journalistic integrity and so on.' 

'Absurd,' Trowa noted dryly. 'So what your pet lawyers advise you to do, Miss Winner?' 

Iria sniffed. 'Simply to ignore the whole thing. We may end up doing just that. According to an expert in Sanque media, that would be the best course. You aren't a terribly well known figure on Earth; you're just seen as my younger brother, and no one seems to care about your sexual orientation.;' She shook her head, apparently mystified. 'Our best course of action seems to be simply not to dignify this nonsense with a response and it will be presumably forgotten about. People on L4 have a low opinion of the press on Earth anyway, so we should be able to persuade our board members that it was just some sleazy paper inventing scurrilous stories..' 

'So...that's it?' Quatre asked slowly, unable to believe it was all that easy. 

'Certainly not! Just because no one in this country cares what you do, doesn't mean there won't be any repercussions back home. There's a gala charity ball next week; I'll arrange for you to escort a suitable young woman. That should help to quash any more rumours.'

'Iria,' Quatre clenched his free hand into a fist, so tightly he could feel nails biting into skin. 'I can't do that.'

His sister gave him a cold glance. 'Don't be foolish. You just have to dance with her a couple of times and have your photograph taken. It's hardly the first time you've taken a girl out for appearance's sake.'

'I know, but I wasn't in a relationship then.' He met her gaze squarely, very, very aware of Trowa beside him. 'I am now.'

'Then you can tell Father yourself. He isn't very happy with you, as I'm sure you can imagine. There will be questions asked at the next board meeting, which you will be expected to attend.' 

'No. I'm not doing that. As far as I'm concerned, my private life is my own business. I will undertake to be as discreet as possible, but I'm not going to discuss my sexuality at a board meeting, and I'm certainly not going to lie.' 

Trowa squeezed his hand gently; Quatre gave him a grateful smile in return. 

'Discreet!' Iria snorted. 'When you're cavorting about on beaches for all the world to see.' 

'We were not cavorting,' Quatre said quietly. 'We were holding hands. For about one minute. That's all.'

'You may tell Father all of that and see what he says in return. I have the shuttle booked to take you back to L4 tomorrow morning at six. The sooner you get back home and stay out of trouble the better! I'd have sent you back earlier except this country has some nonsensical rule about filing space flights in advance.'

'I'm not going.'

Iria didn't even bother to acknowledge the comment, standing up and sweeping up an armload of files.

'Iria. I have no intention of leaving Earth just yet. The last time I spoke to Father, I told him I'd be home next week, and he was fine with that.'

'Don't be absurd, Quatre. You'll do as you're told. I shan't see you before your flight, so give my love to everyone at home, and I recommend you use the flight to reflect on your behaviour over the past week or so.' She juggled her papers from one hand to the other and bent down to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. 'Father's always been far too indulgent with you, but he'll lose patience eventually. You're not a child any more; it's high time you started to take your responsibilities seriously.'

'That's right.' Quatre pulled his hand free from Trowa's, standing to face his sister. 'I'm _not_ a child anymore. I'm not a little boy to be sent off to bed with a smacked wrist. I'm an adult, Iria, and I'm more than capable of making my own decisions. I've already made plans for the next couple of days, so you can cancel that shuttle for now.'

'I most certainly will not. You're going back to L4 if Rashid has to carry you on board bodily.'

'Oh, that's not going to happen.' Quatre hadn't even seen Trowa move, but he was suddenly there at his side. Just as suddenly, listening to a note in Trowa's voice, he was reminded that his boyfriend wasn't just a would-be author of children's books, who spoiled his niece and let her put sparkly clips in his hair and adopted waifs and strays.

He'd fought off all those men who'd been trying to hurt Quatre, like it was an everyday occurrence for him.

'Are you…threatening me, Mr. Barton?'

'Please, call me Trowa. Certainly not. I've way too much sense to threaten anyone Cat cares about.' He was smiling, but a smile could be scary. 'And I'm sure you didn't mean what you just said to be taken as a threat either, but that's what it sounded like. We have very strict rules about abduction in this country. Cat's made it very clear that he wants to stay here, so that's what he'll be doing.'

'He is my brother!'

Trowa nodded. 'He is, yeah. I'm sure you have way much more regard for his happiness than for your company's balance sheets, but somehow that isn't really coming across right now. Quatre's a grown man, like he's just said, and he wants to stay here.'

He didn't need to add the last two words. With me.

Iria shot Quatre a disbelieving glance. 'You are seriously planning to put this man, this stranger who's tumbled you into bed, before your family and our company's future? Are you insane?'

'No. Not at all.' Quatre flicked Trowa a tiny smile. 'I'm not proposing to walk out on WEI. I know I'll be taking over eventually. I've always known that was what my life would be like. But I want Trowa to be part of that too.'

'I see.' There were ice crystals glittering on each and every word. 'What are you proposing exactly, Quatre? To attend the next board meeting with _him_ on your arm?'

'His name is Trowa.' Quatre frosted each syllable of his own with pure anger. 'I'm not proposing anything of the sort. For one thing, I'd never make anyone I cared about sit through one of those interminable meetings. But he is a part of my life, regardless of how anyone feels about that, and as far I'm concerned my private life is just that. What I do when I'm not in the office is no one's business but mine. I'll call you in the morning, about rearranging my flight. Good evening.'

Head high, he swept out of the room, Trowa a pace behind but exactly in step.

'Now that,' Trowa said admiringly, as they waited for the lift, 'was one hell of an exit.'

'Oh, God,' Quatre stepped through the doors and sagged against the wall. 'I can't believe I spoke to her like that. What are you doing?'

'Pausing this?' Trowa flipped a couple of buttons and the lift suddenly stopped.

'What did you do that for?' He was proud that his voice was only a little shaky. 'I thought you could only do that in films.'

Trowa grinned. 'Ever had sex in a lift?'

'Actually, yes. Once.' Quatre took a step backwards as Trowa advanced on him, grin broadening. 'Trowa! We can't. Not here! Iria really would kill me if she found out!'

'Our life is going to be seriously boring if we can't do anything your sister would disapprove of.'

'I know. But…can't we wait 'til we get home? Please?'

He got a brief nod in return. 'Since you asked nicely. Now, I stopped this lift because you look like you're going to faint, and you mightn't want me to have to carry you back to the car. Come here.'

Quatre burrowed into his arms. Amazing. He could count the number of days they'd known each other on his fingers, but Trowa made him feel safe.

'Talk to me, Cat,' he murmured. 'You were great in there. I just don't get why she scares you so much.'

'It's not…being scared so much,' Quatre whispered. 'She, well, I suppose she practically brought me up, and I do love her, and I've always hated it when she's so disappointed with me. I think maybe I'm scared that if she gets really angry or upset with me, she'll leave me, the way my mother did.'

'Oh, Cat. Shush. You can't spend your whole life trying to make other people happy. You've got to think of yourself at some point, or you'll end up resenting the hell out of everyone in your life.'

'I know.' Quatre lifted his tearstained face and Trowa gently kissed him. 'How did you get to be so clever?'

'I read a lot,' Trowa deadpanned. 'You're the only one who can find your own happiness, right?'

'I think I already have. Can we go home now?'

He was the one who reached for Trowa's hand this time. If people wanted to look, let them. Trowa was right; he had nothing to be ashamed of. Somehow, they were going to work this out.

Back in the car, Trowa lifted an eyebrow at him. 'What? I can practically hear you thinking about something.'

Quatre chose a comment at random. 'You don't like lawyers much, do you?'

'Nope. Used to date one. It ended badly; kind of turned me against the whole breed. Now, what were you really going to ask me? If you're going to tell me off for overstepping boundaries with your sister, then get it over with.'

'Oh. I wasn't going to. I liked it! You were very masterful. It was rather sexy actually.'

'You had your moments yourself,' Trowa smiled over at him. '_Very_ sexy. Guess it's true what they say about power being an aphrodisiac.' Smile broadening, he leaned over and placed one hand between Quatre's legs. 'Oh, imagine that. It _is_ true.'

'Very true,' Quatre said breathlessly, squirming as Trowa squeezed gently. 'Oh, _God_.'

'Want me to stop?'

'No! But I can't…come like this, not in the car and, _oh_!'

Trowa produced one of those incredibly sexy chuckles. 'Well, I guess we'll be seeing how good your self control is. It's maybe twenty five minutes back to Wish, depending on traffic. Want to bet on whether you'll need to change your pants when we get home? Oh, shit.'

That last comment had nothing to do with anything Quatre had done; but his 'phone had started to ring.

'Shit,' Trowa said again, taking his hand away. 'I knew I should've got one of those hands-free sets. Hey, Duo! No, it's all good. We're on the way home; should be half an hour or so. Oh, is he? Yeah, that's great. No, you can tell him Cat's fine.' He grinned at Quatre, who had resolutely crossed his legs and was thinking pure thoughts. 'Really, he's maybe a little bit strung up right now, but I think I should be able to calm him down. OK, we'll see you in a while.'

'That was Duo,' he informed Quatre somewhat unnecessarily. 'Just wanted to check we were OK. Now, where were we?' One hand landed on Quatre's knee, stroking its way higher up. Quatre moaned, falling back against his seat. 'Oh, that's nice. Guess what? Your friend Heero's still at Wish; sounds like he's been there for the full day.'

'I think…Duo likes him,' Quatre said, trying hard to concentrate on words rather than what Trowa's devilishly clever fingers were doing to him. 'He said something yesterday; just a slip of the tongue. I don't think he realised I caught it.'

'Well, Heero damn sure likes him back, if the way he was looking at him the other night is anything to go by.' Trowa stopped at a red light, and took his other hand off the steering wheel.

Only his seatbelt kept Quatre from hitting the roof, literally.

'Twenty minutes to go,' Trowa mused. 'Think you'll make it?'

'Not if you, uh, keep doing that!'

Trowa's answering grin was utterly evil. 'But I happen to like doing this. I thought you liked it too, actually. Oh, green light. So where d'you reckon Zechs fits into all this?' Trowa started the car again, grinning. 'I don't really know either of them that well, but I can't really see Duo liking all that high society shit. Could be an interesting threesome, though. All that _hair_.'

'I don't…think so. Please tell me that's not one of your fantasies.'

'It's not,' Trowa told him obligingly. 'I like having one person, all to myself, to concentrate on, and I like that one person to concentrate on me, and in the most ideal world, I want that person to be you.'


	26. Research

Disclaimer: The GW universe does not belong to me and would have been a lot different if it did.

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing.

**Research:**

'It's OK,' Duo hung up the 'phone and gave Heero a reassuring smile. 'Trowa says Cat's fine and they're on their way back here.'

Heero let out the breath he'd obviously been holding. 'Cat's really all right? Did you talk to him?'

'If Tro says he's fine, then he's fine. Seriously.' Duo studied his companion's face, seeing nothing but concern for his friend. 'No way would he let anything happen to Cat on his watch. You really worry about him, don't you?'

Heero shrugged, then nodded. 'I do, yes. I know what his family's like, and Cat's never been very good at standing up for himself.'

'You've known him a long time, right?' Duo shelved the last couple of books he'd been stacking and sprawled on to one the beanbags by the counter. Heero was leaning against the wall, legs outstretched, with his computer on his lap.

'Since we were both seventeen. My stepfather does some consultancy work for the Winners; he got me a job there one summer and I met Quatre. His sister decided she approved of me, so I was allowed spend time with him.'

'His family seriously monitored his friendships?' Duo demanded. 'That sucks!'

'I know. In their defence, they were only trying to protect him. There are plenty of people who'd like to befriend Quatre for his family's money. I think most of his sisters still think he's a young child though.'

'Well, he's not.' Duo grinned crookedly. 'Bet they aren't going to approve of Tro.'

'I doubt they'd approve of any man Quatre got involved with, but I think Trowa is good for him. He'd never have opposed Iria like this a few weeks ago.'

'Maybe he's just starting to think for himself a little bit,' Duo guessed. 'Now that he's away from his family for a while, he can make his own opinions for a change.'

'You're very perceptive, aren't you?' Heero looked up from his screen, smiling. 'And probably right. It's the way he's been brought up, Duo. On L4, family is everything. He's had duty and responsibility drilled into him since he was born. I imagine it's hard to overcome that sort of conditioning.'

'Yeah.' Duo looked down at his lap. 'I guess. I wouldn't actually know, since I never had a family or anything. But I sort of like how it's so important in Cat's culture. Sure, some of it sucks but it must be kind of nice having all that support, knowing exactly where you fit in the world.'

'Perhaps. I wouldn't know. I don't have a family of my own either.'

'You have that stepfather guy, right?'

'I just call him that. He was an old college friend of my father's. My parents had named him as executor of their will because he was a lawyer. Then they were killed in a car crash when I was seven and Odin ended up taking custody of me.'

'God, Heero, that's awful.' Duo had never known his parents, never known anything about them and that had been bad enough, but it would probably be worse to have had a happy home, and then have it ripped apart. 'Was he OK to you?'

'I almost never saw him. I was away at school most of the time.' He hesitated. 'I know the Winners aren't perfect, but they've been very good to me. After I met Quatre, I used to spend all my holidays with them; I still visit whenever I can.' He smiled faintly. 'Of course, I've never actually told them I'm gay. They mightn't be quite so welcoming if they knew that.'

Damn. So he _was_ gay. OK, it was hardly a revelation. They'd almost kissed for God's sake; would have if Hilde hadn't barged in.

Of course he was gay.

Gay and heart-stoppingly gorgeous, and just about perfect in every way except one and that wasn't even his fault.

It was Duo's own fault that he was involved with someone else.

'So…what happened to your family?' Heero asked diffidently. 'You don't have to talk about it, if you'd rather not.'

Duo shrugged. 'Not much to talk about. Never knew them. Got dumped on the front step of an orphanage when I was a baby and pretty much grew up there. I got fostered out a couple of times, but it never worked. When I was thirteen, the orphanage had a fire; everyone got out, but the building was destroyed. The City decided not to rebuild; the kids got farmed out to other institutions or foster homes. I ended up running off, spent a few years living on the street, used to hang around the shuttle port all the time doing odd jobs and stuff. Then this one guy I knew a bit offered to take me to Earth; said he'd give me a free trip if I worked my passage. Once we went into orbit, he made it clear just what he wanted me to do, and I spent the whole trip fighting him off or hiding in the galley. No way was I going back to L2 with him trying to ride my ass, so I bummed around Europe for a bit, ended up in Sanque, met Tro…I guess you know the rest.'

Heero shook his head, an oddly admiring look in those stunning eyes. 'That's amazing. I can't believe you went through all that.'

'You do what you have to, right?' He grinned suddenly. 'Look at me now. Dating someone like Zechs; going to all these society parties.'

'Do you enjoy them?'

'Well, not a lot,' Duo owned frankly. 'I thought they'd be way more fun than they really are. Most people seem to be there to show themselves off, you know, not to enjoy themselves or make friends. I guess it'll maybe be different when I know a few more of Zechs' friends.' He looked at Heero, head bent over his laptop. 'What are you doing anyway?'

'Trying to find who took that photograph of Quatre.'

Duo grinned. 'What, like you're hacking into a newspaper? You can do that?'

'They have abysmal security systems,' Heero said dismissively. 'It's odd; most photographs and articles carry the name of the artist or author. It says the person who wrote that piece about Quatre is a Miss Casey Wallis, but no one's taking credit for the picture.'

'I guess it had to have been someone who knew where they were going to be.' Duo thought about it. 'Who'd that have been? Us, Zechs, Cathy.'

'Who's Cathy?'

'Tro's sister. No way was it her. I suppose Cat told his sister where he was off to. Shit! Maybe it was her? You don't think that she's trying to stage a takeover to get the company for herself by disgracing Cat so she can swan in and be the boss?'

Heero laughed. 'Definitely not. She'd never do that to Quatre. She wouldn't disgrace the family by advertising something like that. Anyway, she almost certainly wouldn't get to be CEO in his place. It would probably be one of their other sisters' husbands, or a male cousin.'

'Oh. Suppose that's good, since it would suck for Cat to have his sister do a thing like that. Who else would've known?'

'Quatre's bodyguards; his PA. Possibly Iria's assistant. I can't imagine any of them would do this; they're all devoted to him.'

'Huh. I'm lost then. Maybe one of those assistants or something mentioned it to the wrong person?'

'Maybe.' Heero didn't sound all that convinced, tapping keys at the speed of light. 'Now, this is odd. Miss Wallis received a fairly large cash payment first thing this morning, apparently out of petty cash. That's rather an interesting coincidence, isn't it? Especially as she's on the newspaper payroll and normally receives payments into her bank account.'

'She was paying her source!' Duo said excitedly. 'This is seriously cool, Heero! I can't believe you just hacked into their records while you were sitting there and talking to me.'

Heero laughed, but looked like he was enjoying the admiration anyway. 'It wasn't that difficult. Let's see what more information we can find about the lady, shall we?'

'Yeah!' The shop bell rang. 'Oops! Customer!'

'Duo!' Ellie bounced into the shop. 'And Heero! Cool! Can we play chess again?'

'Ellie, wait a minute! I keep telling you not to run across the road like that!' Cathy followed her daughter through the door, trailing shopping bags. 'Hi, Duo.' She took in Heero, and a slow, speculative smile appeared on her mouth. It was creepy; just the way Hilde and Middie had looked when they'd first seen him. 'You must be Duo's new boyfriend. Lovely to meet you. I'm Cathy, Trowa's sister.'

'Uh, this isn't Zechs. This is Cat's friend Heero,' Duo said awkwardly. Damn why did every woman in the universe think one look at Heero and himself and think they were a couple?

'Oh, I'm sorry. I just assumed…anyway it's nice to meet you, Heero. Duo, isn't Trowa here? I'm dying to meet this mysterious blond my baby brother's fallen for, and Tro said they were on their way back here when I called him earlier.'

'Yeah.' What the hell was what it all the assuming? 'He should be; I think maybe they got sidetracked.'

Cathy laughed. 'Possibly. Duo, would you mind watching Ellie for an hour or so? I have a hair appointment and she gets bored in the salon.'

'Sure.'

'Yay!' Ellie cheered, disappearing around the counter and rummaging for the chessboard. She was giggling when she popped back out, dropping the box at Heero's feet. 'My mum thought you were Duo's boyfriend! Hey! Maybe you could be! Don't you like him?'

'I like him very much,' Heero said earnestly. 'He's already got a boyfriend though.'

She shrugged. 'I heard my dad tell his new girlfriend that that won't last. So then you could ask Duo to be your boyfriend, right?'

'Ellie!' Duo snapped, not knowing where to look. Dear God, he didn't need children to match-make for him. Well, maybe he did, but it was still bloody embarrassing. 'What's your uncle always telling you about not asking personal questions?'

'But if I don't ask questions, I'll never know anything.'

'You don't need to know the answers to some questions. Haven't you got homework?'

'Later. Pleeeeeeeassse.'

Duo shook his head; Trowa's niece could give spaniel puppies lessons in how to give pleading looks. If she and Cat ever set their hearts on something, Tro would be toast in two seconds. Soggy, sap-covered toast.

'Chess is educational. And my Dad showed me two new moves yesterday when he was minding me. I bet I'll win today!' She was setting up the board without waiting for a response. 'Can I be White? Dad's taking me shopping next week to buy a new chessboard; a proper one with marble pieces that you can set up all the time. And maybe a new dress if I want. He's the best dad ever!'

'Is he, honey?' Duo sat down on the floor beside them. 'You know, Ellie, sometimes people say thngs and mean it, but maybe then they find out it can't happen. It's expensive to buy stuff like that.'

'Daddy promised!' Ellie jerked herself free and glared at him. 'He _promised_. He's going to take me and Casey out for lunch on Wednesday and then go shopping.

'Who's Casey, the new girlfriend?'

The little girl nodded enthusiastically. 'She's really nice. She helped babysit me yesterday when Daddy was in my house, and she made me lunch and she talked to me lots. I told her all about going to the funfair with you and Cat, and all about Cat helping me with my maths homework, and how I'd never met anyone from L4 before.'

Casey.

_Shit. _

Looking up, Duo saw the same awareness in Heero's eyes and gave his head a slight shake.

'She sounds cool. What does she do?'

'She writes stories for a grown up newspaper. That's how Daddy met her last month. He was taking the photos for a story she was making up.'

'That's a great job, isn't it? You liked her, huh?'

'Lots and lots! She was really interested in everything. Sometimes, adults aren't. But I told her all about going to the carnival with Uncle Trowa and Cat and how I got sick 'cause I ate too many onion rings and everything.' She bit her lip anxiously. 'You don't think she'd put that in a story, do you? 'Cause my mum would be really mad.'

'I think she sounds a nice lady who wouldn't do something mean like that,' Duo assured her. 'Listen, sweetie, I need to talk to Heero for a sec. Can you go upstairs and get a snack? Bring down some cookies or something for all of us?'

'Sure! Can I get the special chocolates from the secret place?'

'Knock yourself out.' Duo waited 'til she'd run upstairs and turned to face Heero. 'Oh, shit. Guess we know who told the press.'

'Possibly. Would she have known where they were going?'

'Dunno. She might've heard Trowa talking to Cat about it, or he might have just told her. Not like it was a secret. Oh, fuck! Tro's going to go through the roof. He hates Rob, that's Ellie's dad, like poison anyway. He'll want to swing for him.'

'Maybe we just shouldn't say anything.'

'He'll ferret it out. Better just to tell him and get it over with. Hell! I can't believe that asshole using his own daughter like that!'

'Poor Ellie.'

'Yeah. Listen, she doesn't need to know all of this crap.'

'Of course not.'

Duo's mind spun around in circles for the next hour. Maybe it _would_ be better not to tell Tro. Except he'd just go on suspecting everyone else; Cat's family or even Heero and that wasn't fair on them. They waved a jubilant Ellie off, flushed with the joy of having beaten Heero to a stalemate, and decided not to mention anything to Cathy, just yet.

By closing time, there was still no sign of Trowa or Quatre, but Tro had sent a quick text to say they were on their way, after a slight detour. There'd been a few customers, but it was always fairly quiet on weekdays so they'd been able to spend most of the time talking or playing chess. Heero had thrashed Duo the first time; the second he'd pulled out a move Wufei had taught him and fought Heero to a checkmate. It had been one of the nicest afternoons Duo could remember in a long time.

Heero laughed when Duo showed him the message. 'A quick detour of three hours! Where do you suppose they went?'

'Tro knows some pretty out of the way places and it's been a nice afternoon. Um, sorry you ended up hanging around here all day. You could have been out having fun doing tourist stuff or something.'

'I've been having fun,' Heero said decisively. 'I don't know if you've got any plans for this evening, but we could maybe have dinner if you liked? If you're not doing anything else?'

'That'd be great!' Duo scooped up a bundle of coins from the till. 'I'll be about half an hour counting all this if you don't mind hanging on? We could go to Howie's again, or if you like there's a really nice pub a couple of streets away that does nice food.'

'That sounds perfect.' Heero thought for a minute. 'If you don't mind, I might take the car back to my hotel and get a taxi back. That way I can have a drink tonight.'

Fifteen minutes later, Duo rolled his eyes at someone knocking persistently at the door. There was always some idiot who couldn't read a 'We're Closed' sign. He pulled the blind aside to point out that _closed_ meant _closed_, and saw Zechs on the other side of the door.

'Now, that's not very friendly, locking your door on me,' Zechs scolded affectionately and Duo, whose mind had happily been wandering around the beautiful blueness of Heero's eyes when he smiled, was instantly scarlet. 'Sweetheart, aren't you ready? I told you I'd pick you up at seven.'

'Oh!' Duo said blankly; he'd totally forgotten they had a date. Stupid. 'Zechs, I'm so sorry. I forgot all about it, what with everything that's been going on today. I don't think I can make it tonight.'

'Whatever's wrong?' The warm concern in Zechs' voice as he gave Duo a hug sent nasty little splinters of guilt rushing through him.

'Oh! Maybe you haven't seen it. Some stupid tabloid published a picture of Cat and Tro together, and Cat's in serious shit with his family.'

'Is that all?' Zechs sounded vaguely amused.

'It's not funny! He could be prosecuted for carrying on like that when he gets home.'

'Duo. Sweetheart.' Zechs gave him a quick kiss on the lips. 'I can't imagine what Quatre Winner would need to do to face any sort of criminal charges on L4, but it would take a lot more than being outed in a newspaper on the other side of the universe. It might actually do him a bit of good; make him grow a little backbone for a change. It's about time he stopped pandering to his family and told them the truth about what _he_ wants his life to be.'

Duo pulled out of his arms. 'I think that should be his decision, not some reporter's, actually.'

'Now, darling, don't be cross with me. I didn't mean to sound harsh. I've known Quatre since he was a child, and it won't do him any harm to learn to assert himself a little bit. Now, do I need to take you home to change?'

'Zechs, I don't think I can go. Seriously, I want to see Trowa and he's due back really soon.'

'I'm sure Trowa is quite capable of sorting out his own affairs.'

'Yeah. That's not the point. He's my friend, and I'd like to talk to him.'

'Then you can call him on the way.'

Duo signed. 'Seriously, tonight's not great. It's just been a really long day, and I still have to finish up here, and I'm just not in the mood for getting all dressed up and going out. I'm sorry.'

'You're standing me up?' Zechs sounded unsure of whether he wanted to be amused or annoyed.

'It's not like that. Honest.' Duo twiddled the blind on the door, and then saw Tro's car pull up outside. 'Look, just give me a sec, OK? I need to have a quick word with Trowa.'

'Hey!' Duo swung the door open. 'What happened to you guys? You were due back ages ago.'

'We had to make a quick stop.' Trowa was grinning like a cat who'd just dined on a whole flock of chocolate-covered canaries, and Quatre was crimson. 'Well, maybe not all that quick. Hey, Zechs.'

'Trowa.' Zechs moved forward and gave Quatre a quick hug. 'All right? Your sister hasn't hauled you back home then?'

'Not for want of trying,' the little blond admitted. 'I'm not exactly her favourite person right now.'

'I can imagine. She needs to start realising you're not her tractable little brother any more though.'

'Tro,' Duo interrupted. 'There's something we need to talk about. I think it was Rob who took that picture. Ellie apparently told him and his new girlfriend, who's a journo, that you've got a new boyfriend from L4 and it looks like she told him about your little getaway.'

'What?' Trowa said blankly. 'No, she can't have. She didn't know where we were going.'

'We did mention it, actually,' Cat ventured. 'She probably overheard us.'

'Shit.' Trowa's expression darkened ominously. 'Cat, I'll be back in a bit. Duo, can you finish closing up here?'

'Trowa?' Cat darted after him. 'Where are you going?'

'To have a little chat with my ex-brother-in-law about invasion of privacy. Don't worry. I won't be long, and we'll go for dinner when I get back, OK?' He gave the blond a quick kiss on the cheek and was out the door, leaving Cat gaping after him.

'Relax, Cat. He's pissed, but he wouldn't really hurt Ellie's dad.'

'Who's Ellie?' Zechs wondered, not sounding terribly interested. 'Never mind. Duo, you can tell me on the way. Cat, sorry to run off like this, but we've got plans.'

'I'm not leaving Cat here by himself!'

'Oh, I'll be fine!' Quatre said instantly. 'Really. You two go off. I can finish closing up and I need to call Heero.'

Heero. _Shit_.

Duo swallowed. 'Um, I have to call him too, actually.'

'Heero?' Zechs asked. 'What on earth do you need to call him for?'

'He drove me back here after the bike ride, and then he hung around for most of the day. I totally forgot about us going out and then he asked me out for dinner.'

'Did he indeed? I think I'm starting to be jealous of my best friend.'

'You don't have to be.'

'I'm joking, sweet. Well, I'm a little envious that he got to spend most of the day with you but I get you for the evening and I mean to make the most of having you.'


	27. Bubbles

Many thanks to KS for editing and to everyone who has been kind enough to share their comments.

Pairings: 6x2

Warnings: See Pairings, above.

**Bubbles:**

Between Quatre's insistence that he was perfectly fine alone, and Zechs' coaxing, Duo somehow found himself in Zechs' car, fifteen minutes later, hastily showered and dressed in another of Quat's spiffy outfits.

Damn.

He was trying really hard to convince himself that attending a film premiere – even if it was a low-budget, artsy foreign film with actors that he'd never heard of – would be fun, especially as the plus-one of a genuine celebrity.

And Zechs had really wanted him to attend, so that meant something, right?

It was just that he'd have preferred to go home and slob around on the couch with a take away and some dumb TV show for a couple of hours.

Or to hang around Wish with Quatre and wait for Heero to get back.

Especially that option.

Still, wasn't going to happen. He was in his boyfriend's amazing car; passenger seat, naturally, and off to a glitzy function. Anyone else in the universe would be over the moon. Zechs was pure sex on those sinfully long legs, with his hair tied back in a ponytail to show off his cheekbones. Utterly gorgeous.

He'd sent Heero a quick, apologetic message, and Heero had texted straight back to say that was fine. Which it was, of course. It wasn't like anything could ever happen with Heero; he'd be heading back to L4 once he was sure Cat was OK, and he was far too decent a guy to hit on his buddy's boyfriend. And Duo was far too decent ever to cheat on someone.

Zechs was perfect anyway, all tall and aristocratic and more than aware of it. Someone you'd never think in a million years would be interested in a normal guy like Duo. All that glorious hair, and that perfect mouth and those long, clever fingers and what the mouth and those fingers could do….

'All right?' Zechs took one hand off the wheel to squeeze his knee gently. 'This will be fun, I promise.'

'Yeah.' Duo managed a smile. 'Sorry. I'm just a bit tired.'

'Of course.' Zechs was all affectionate concern. 'I forget you were out biking with Heero this morning. Poor baby. We'll just spend an hour or so here, and then I'll take you home and spoil you a little. What you need is a nice supper and a soak in the jaccuzzi, and a massage. How does that appeal to you?'

'Brilliant,' Duo said honestly. Of course it did. Who wouldn't be totally won over by that sort of pampering by a guy who looked like Zechs?

'That's better.' Zechs' fingers squeezed, a little harder this time, and higher up his leg. 'Mmm. You're so lovely. If I didn't have to attend this shindig, I'd take you home right now.'

'I don't get why you have to go,' Duo arched back in his seat. 'You're pretty famous already, right? Everyone's heard of you.'

The blond laughed softly. 'You're only as famous as your last piece of publicity. The lead actress in this is tipped for a Golden Globe in Cannes next month, and this is her first official appearance. The media's going to be out in force.' Those long, knowing fingers curved between Duo's legs. 'Just an hour, darling, I promise. It'll be fun.'

It wasn't fun; it was basically the magazine party all over again except this time Zechs kept one arm firmly around Duo's waist while he talked to people. People who let their eyes drift appraisingly over Duo, and then zoomed straight back to Zechs, the interesting one.

Duo gave up keeping track of names – all the guys were either called Troy or had weird Eastern European names – and tried to just enjoy the feel of Zechs against him, and glanced covertly at his watch every so often, and sipped champagne. He wasn't crazy about the taste, but the bubbles were nice.

It was like he was invisible. A couple of guys flicked him an appreciative glance or two but didn't bother to speak to Zechs' property.

Even the reporter who asked to interview them both for a lifestyle piece in the _Sanque_ Times weekend supplement wasn't overly interested in Duo, except to make sure she had the right spelling of his name.

'Thank you so much, Mr. Merquise,' she gushed finally. Another one smitten. 'I do hope you enjoy the film.'

Zechs laughed, allowing one hand to slide down the curve of Duo's backside. 'I'm sure it's excellent. Unfortunately, Duo and I have a prior engagement, don't we, sweetheart?'

'What the hell did you do that for?' Duo hissed angrily as soon as they were out of earshot, heading for the street. 'That was damn embarrassing.'

'What was, sweet?' Zechs looked genuinely mystified, opening the passenger door for Duo.

'You groping my ass! In public!'

'But it's such a lovely ass I just couldn't help myself,' Zechs teased, and then laughed. 'I keep forgetting you're a colonial.' He leaned over to kiss Duo's cheek. 'You're adorable when you're all prudish like this.'

'I'm not a prude,' Duo snapped, 'But I don't like being touched like that in front of half the bloody photographers in Sanque. And I sure as hell don't like you practically telling a reporter that we're going home to have sex!'

'I was rather under the impression that we were. Would you prefer me to go back and tell her we're _not_ planning to have sex this evening?'

'Don't be stupid. It wouldn't exactly do any good after you feeling me up like that. And another thing, you told that woman all sorts of lies. I'm not an artist.'

'You most certainly are.'

'No, I'm not. It's a hobby. I'm a shop assistant, and I happen to like my job and if it's not good enough for you, tough.' Duo crossed both arms, glaring out the window.

'Oh, darling, I didn't mean that. It's not nearly good for _you_. You're incredibly talented. It's absurd that you're happy to spend your life working in a shop when you have the potential to be so much more. That's all I meant. You have an amazing talent, and I can't believe you're wasting it.'

'I'm not that amazing,' Duo muttered, just a little bit mollified. It was hard to stay mad with Zechs leaning over him so closely that all that blond hair was drifting against him and whatever cologne Zechs was wearing was dancing in his nostrils. 'Really I'm not.'

'You're amazing in every way imaginable,' Zechs countered, a smile in his voice. 'And what's equally amazing is that you seem to have no idea. I just want to give you a little confidence, that's all.' He turned the key in the ignition. 'Now, are you going to let me take you home and show you just how very amazing you are?'

Duo shifted slightly in his seat, irritated at himself for missing Zechs' warmth pressed against him. He could go back to his empty flat and clean the fish tank and eat pizza and water the plants, or he could go home with Zechs and be spoilt a bit for once.

'I don't know where you got the impression that I was planning to sleep with you tonight,' he said finally.

Zechs, utterly infuriatingly, grinned. 'Well, you did agree to come home with me after the party. And you seemed rather receptive to my advances earlier. Or am I mistaken?'

Duo took a deep breath, trying to sort what exactly he did want. For God's sake, he had the most gorgeous guy in the known universe propositioning him. Anyone else would be leaping into Zechs' bed without even having to think about it.

Let me make you supper at least,' Zechs offered, before Duo had a chance to make his mind up. 'If you'd rather go home after that, I can drive you. Please?'

'OK. If you really want to.'

'I really want _you_.' Zechs turned his head briefly to offer one of those glimmeringly smug smiles. He looked like the Cheshire cat who'd just been handed a whole carton of double cream.

Then one hand had left the steering wheel to begin a slow, agonisingly purposeful exploration up Duo's leg. By the time they made it back to his house, the issue wasn't _if_ they'd have sex but _when_.

Zechs closed the front door behind them and lifted one challenging eyebrow. 'Can I lock up or would you still like me to take you home after supper?'

'You can lock up.'

'Ah. Perfect, _perfect_ answer,' Zechs purred approvingly. 'I think you deserve a reward for that.' The reward was a deep, devastatingly thorough kiss, almost enough to distract him from what Zechs' hands were doing, lower down, until Zechs' mouth lifted from his and began to follow the trail of his fingers.

'Oh, God.' If he hadn't been slumped against the door frame, with both hands on Zechs' shoulders and Zech's arm latched around his waist, he would have been on the floor in a blissfully oblivious puddle. '_God_!'

'Glorious.' Zechs agreed, standing up to kiss him. 'Now, we need something cold to drink, and some warm water to wash you off before I take you to bed and have my very wicked way with you. Yes?'

'Yes.' Duo said because, at that point, he was utterly incapable of saying anything else, and Zechs gave him a smile that was hovering on the verge of being a smirk.

There were bubbles overflowing the bathtub; more in the champagne that Zechs poured for them both. It was like a scene out of a movie, except that Duo had somehow got one of the starring roles.

'Beautiful Duo,' Zechs planted a long, lingering kiss on his mouth. 'My beautiful, beautiful Duo. Why in the world did I leave my camera downstairs?'

'Don't even _think_ about it. No way are you taking nudie shots of me.'

'No?' Zechs eyebrows lifted slightly. 'Well, not tonight, perhaps.'

'Not ever!'

'I never imagined you'd be so prim and proper.'

'Am not! Just not an exhibitionist like you.'

Zechs laughed. 'You just need to have your horizons broadened a little, my darling.'

'My horizons are plenty broad,' Duo retorted, taking a deep breath before plunging his head underwater to nuzzle between Zechs' legs.

'Duo, enjoyable though this is, I think we should maybe take it on to dry land before we drown one another. Time for bed, do you think?'

It was the fact that he'd asked that made Duo's mind up. Sure, it was a seduction, but he was going along with it more than happily, and they were two single adults and why the hell not?

He wasn't a virgin, but he didn't have massive amounts of experience either. Anyone who'd grown up on the rougher side of L2 learned to be wary of sex, especially if you were small for your age, and pretty.

Living on the streets of affluent Sanque hadn't been a whole lot better. There'd been at least one time where very nasty things could have happened if Trowa hadn't shown up. Duo liked to pretend he could have handled things himself but deep down he knew he'd been outnumbered and horribly vulnerable.

There'd been Trowa, or his crush on Trowa, for the longest time after that, and a few almost-relationships that had never really gone anywhere for various reasons. He'd wondered, sometimes, what all the fuss was about.

And now Zechs. Taking his hand and leading him up the stairs to that massive bedroom. He'd obviously planned this part; there were condoms and lube by the bed. Lilies and thick creamy candles. Very Hollywood-romance. Or maybe that was just how Zechs kept the room. Maybe the butler was responsible for keeping it like that.

Time was starting to behave a bit oddly; the walk upstairs forever, but then they were magically on the bed and naked, with Zechs looming over him at the start, pressing him down and then pulling back and slowing it down so that every lick or thrust or touch lasted an infinity.

Some part of his brain recognised that Zechs had probably sensed that he was a bit uncertain and was taking it very gently. He was whispering endearments the whole time, when his mouth wasn't otherwise occupied, and there were hushed commands to Duo to open his legs a little wider, or move his hips, or just to _breathe_ at one point.

He rolled off just before his weight got too uncomfortable, and wrapped Duo in his arms and kissed him.

'That was amazing.'

Just in time, Duo stopped himself for saying something dumb on the lines of 'Was I _really_?' because he'd been feeling clumsy and inadequate for most of it, and Zechs was so … polished. 'So were you,' he said instead, and Zechs gave him one of those soft laughs.

'It only gets better, you know.'

'God, not sure if I could take _better_,' Duo mumbled into the other man's warm shoulder.

'Well, we'll see about that.'

'Um. OK. Sorry if I was, um, you know, I'm not very practised at all this.'

'Don't you dare apologise! I happen to like that fact that you're not very practised at all this. We all have to start somewhere, darling.'

Duo lifted his head in time to catch the tail end of a rather predatory grin.

'Although, I do have to warn you that I plan on giving you lots and lots of practice.'

'That makes perfect, I hear.' Duo managed to make a joke of it, just.

'Mmm. I've heard that too.' Zechs made a tiny movement of hip and leg and suddenly there was a hard swelling pressing against Duo's thigh. 'Do you think we should see if that's true?'

Just like that, post-sex snuggling became pre-sex foreplay, and not a lot of foreplay at that. Second-time round, it was less – considerate. Harder and faster with hands gripping instead of stroking and little bites rather than kisses.

'I told you, it gets better.' Zechs was impossibly smug as he found a box of tissues and started to clean them both up a little.

'Uh.' It was impossible, just then, to frame thoughts, let alone coherent sentences.

'Duo Maxwell, lost for words,' he teased. 'Imagine that. I _must_ have been good.'

Duo groped for words through a brain that was still fogged with sex and pleasure. He gulped the champagne Zechs handed him because it was cold and wet, and the bubbles fizzed straight to his brain.'I didn't actually think that last thing you did was physically possible.'

'Yoga and healthy living,' the blond smirked up at him, before pulling Duo down for a kiss. 'Educating you is going to be such a pleasure. But a nap first, yes?'

'Yes, please. I really don't think I'll be able for anything else. I won't be able to sit down for a week as it is.'

'Excellent. Then I can keep you here in my bed.'

'I have to go to work at some point.'

'You can call in sick. Or I can call Trowa for you, if you like and tell him I've abducted you and he can't have you back until I've fully explored everything single thing that I want to do with you. That may take a couple of years or so.'

'I don't think Tro'd appreciate that, somehow,' Duo grinned. 'Sorry, Zechs. He's my best friend as well as my boss. I'd rather not let him down.'

'Hmmm. If he's such a good friend, I'm sure he'd understand.'

'No.' Duo gave him a direct look. 'Apart from anything it's my job and I need the money. Would you cancel a shoot just because I asked?'

Zechs smiled at him. 'Very definitely, if you asked when you were naked and in my bed. Actually, you wouldn't _need_ to ask.' He leaned down and pressed a kiss to one of Duo's nipples. 'Maybe I should just tie you up and keep you here?'

'No tying!'

'No?' Another kiss, with lots of tongue and a little scrape of teeth, hard enough to make him gasp and arch back against the mattress. 'Don't worry, sweet. We'll keep it strictly vanilla until you're feeling a bit more comfortable with all this. Plenty of time to get more adventurous later.'

'The shop doesn't open until ten.' Duo teased, firmly ignoring the last sentences. He wasn't a prude, whatever Zechs said. He just wasn't into bondage or anything like that.

Zechs glanced at his watch; an elegant wafer of gold. His eyes were gleaming when he lifted his head. 'That doesn't leave a lot of time, does it? It's almost midnight now. And I suppose I'll have to let you sleep at some point.'

'Mmm. Sleep'd be good at some point,' Duo murmured, but he was properly awake, all of a sudden, courtesy of vintage champagne and Zech's mouth brushing his skin gently. 'Oh, that's nice. Really nice.'

'This?' Zechs kissed his shoulder, lips plucking gently at skin. 'You do feel nice. More than nice, actually.' He sat up properly, against the headboard, pulling Duo up to lie against his chest.'

'Nice?' There was a little smile in his voice as he wrapped one arm around Duo's waist, the other hand reaching out to fetch a glass from the dresser.

Duo nodded, tilting his head back slightly as Zechs pressed the glass against his lips. 'Yeah. You know, I'd never tasted champagne in my life 'til the party tonight.'

'That was just plonk,' Zechs said dismissively. 'They never cater those sorts of events properly.' He kissed the top of Duo's head, soft as a whisper. 'You're so lovely. I may have to reconsider letting you leave in the morning.'

Duo twisted his head back for a proper kiss. 'I may reconsider it too.' He let Zechs drizzle a little more champagne into his mouth and snuggled back against him. 'This is really nice.'

'Well, I'm glad that I'm finally doing something right,' Zechs said ruefully.

'You've done quite a lot right,' Duo assured him, touched by that tiny hint of uncertainty. 'Honest. Those ritzy parties just aren't my thing, that's all. I like this though.'

'I like this too.' Zechs drained his glass. 'Shall I open another bottle?'

Duo grinned at him. 'What I'd really love would be a glass of water. Or I'll have the hangover from hell in the morning.'

Zechs shook one finger at him. 'Vintage Bollinger does not give one a hangover. But yes, of course I'll get you some water. Just a moment.'

'What, you're not going to ring for the butler?'

'It's his night off,' Zechs said, apparently serious. Then he laughed. 'Besides, I'm not sure if I want anyone else seeing you like that. I'll be back in a second.'

It came in a tall crystal glass with ice and lime. Not just water, but some fizzy French mineral stuff.

More bubbles, Duo thought hazily as he took a long swallow. Definitely a theme going on there.

More than one theme actually, he decided, as Zechs that long, perfect body into bed beside him.


	28. Are We There Yet?

Note: Many thanks to KS for editing and to everyone who's been reviewing.

Warnings: 3x4. Sex and snuggling and sap and sharing and such..

**Are We There Yet?**

'Are we there yet?' Quatre panted, pausing to adjust the straps of his rucksack. He'd always thought of himself as being a fit person but that was before Trowa had taken him halfway up a mountain.

'Nearly.'

'You've been saying that for at least the last hour!'

Trowa grinned at him. 'Yeah, and it's more true every time I say it.'

'Huh. I think the top's getting farther away. I'm sure we were closer earlier.'

'It's just the way the path's twisting around through the trees. Now, come on. No slacking.'

'You're a total sadist,' Quatre grumbled, plopping down on a comfortable-looking rock and taking a gulp from his water bottle.

'That's me.' Trowa sat down beside him. 'Seriously, another mile or so of climbing, and then the path levels out 'til we get to the lake. We'll take it slowly.'

'A mile!' the blond intoned dramatically. 'I'll die! I can't believe how unfit I actually am. I swim every morning at home, and I play tennis a couple of times a week.'

'Different muscles. Here, this should give you an energy boost.' Trowa handed him a bar of chocolate. 'When we get the tent set up, I'll give you a whole other workout. If you're good, I might even let you lie down for some of it.'

Quatre jabbed his chest with one finger. 'You have a one track mind, Mr. Barton.'

'Yep,' Trowa agreed amiably. 'Bet you can't guess where it's going?'

'I'm fairly sure I can, actually.' Quatre stood up, stretching, and looking around. It was worth it; worth the sore muscles, and the blisters that were almost certainly forming on his heels from his new hiking boots, and the straps that were digging into his shoulders, just to be here with Trowa. 'You'll be lucky. If I ever get up there, I'll just want to collapse.'

'We can't have that.' One long arm snaked out and Quatre abruptly found himself in Trowa's lap. 'Sorry, Cat. I come up here a lot; I never even thought about how you weren't used to climbing. How about we take a rest here and eat before going on?'

'Can we? That would be wonderful.' Quatre bent to kiss him and then pulled back, crimson, as his stomach gave a demanding little gurgle. 'Oh, excuse me! I can't believe I'm hungry after that enormous lunch we had.'

'All the fresh air,' Trowa grinned at him, and then reached over for his pack. 'Yeah, we might as well eat now if you want. It's all cold stuff anyway; they don't allow campfires up here as there are some rare plants, and it wasn't worth bringing a camping stove for one night.'

'Definitely not!' Quatre's sore muscles gave a twinge at the idea of having to carry _more_ stuff. Dinner was perfect anyway; cold chicken and ham and a pasta salad.

Unfortunately, climbing on a full stomach wasn't easy. Trowa took his hand for the last, steep climb. By then, Quatre was tired enough to accept the offer of help. As promised, the ground levelled off after that and the last stretch was a pleasant, easy walk on springy moorland, with heather stretching on either sides of the path.

'Now, how's this for the perfect place to spend the night?' Trowa asked.

'It's just beautiful!' Quatre breathed, magically reviving. 'Wow!' The sun was slowly starting to sink, painting banners of gold and indigo across the sky, and gilding the still waters of the small lake in front of them.

After they'd walked to the lake, and dabbled hands in the cool water, he even had enough energy to help Trowa set up the campsite,

'Father used to take me camping, sometimes, when I was little.' Quatre smiled at the memory, banging in the last tent-peg. 'He used to say we were roughing it in the wilderness, but really we brought servants and bodyguards and a chef. It was fun though. Heero and I go out on into the desert, sometimes, when I can get away for a day or so. He used to tell Iria we were going out to the Maguanac camp, but usually we went off by ourselves.'

Trowa grinned. 'I can't really see Heero as the rebellious type.'

'He has his moments.' Quatre tied back the tent flap with a neat bow and sat back on his heels, pleased with his handiwork. 'I'm so glad you two get on.'

Trowa nodded. 'He's a nice guy. He's got it bad for Duo, hasn't he?'

'Oh, yes. Although so does Zechs by the looks of things.'

'Maybe. I know he's your friend too, but he's a bit too much of a player for Duo, from what I've seen. He and Wufei used to be an item, did you know that?'

'No. He's never told me that. What happened?'

Trowa shrugged. 'It was years ago. They split up, not very amicably. Wufei's never talked about it.'

Quatre thought. 'Perhaps we could, I don't know, somehow get them back together? I've always had the impression that Zechs had been madly in love with someone, once, and that he's never really got over it.'

'I think you should concentrate on your own relationship and let them sort themselves out. They're all adults; they can look after themselves without us meddling.'

'I suppose.' Quatre shook out the two sleeping bags and arranged them cosily side by side in their little home, while Trowa arranged a blanket in front of the tent.

'Stop worrying about them.' Trowa patted the blanket beside him invitingly. 'Come and sit here. I might even let you watch the sunset before starting to ravish you.'

'Yes, please!' Quatre flopped down beside him, and immediately bounced back up. 'Trowa! It's really hard!'

His boyfriend smirked. 'Thanks, Cat. Every guy likes to hear that.'

'That wasn't what I meant, Mr Sex Maniac! It's the ground! It's like sitting on a rock! I'll never be able to sleep.'

Trowa pulled him down. 'You're hilarious, you know that? The ground's hard, the lakewater was cold, rain is wet…You've been camping before. How come you didn't know?'

Quatre pouted. It had been an exhausting day; he really wasn't in the mood for being laughed at. 'When I was with my father, the servants used to set up tents with proper beds! Heero used to bring inflatable mattresses. And how was I supposed to know what rain was like? I'd never felt it before! I'm sure there are lots of things you don't know about the Colonies, but I don't tease you!'

'Hey, Cat. Quatre. I was joking.' Trowa wound both arms around his neck. 'I'm sorry, OK? You can sleep on me if you like. How about that?'

'Oh,' Quatre sank into the lush kiss, anger evaporating instantly. 'I could, couldn't I?'

'Sure you could.'

'OK, then.' Because he was still smarting, very slightly, from the teasing, Quatre's lips curved into a grin against Trowa's, and he aimed one hand at the ticklish spot on his boyfriend's left hip. As he'd guessed, Trowa immediately fell backwards, laughing. He recovered fast, though, long fingers jabbing between Quatre's ribs and then just lay back, green eyes boring into blue.

'So…you going to sleep on top of me now?' It was very, very obvious that sleep was the last thing on his mind.

'Here?' Quatre paused. 'Trowa, I don't know…what if someone comes?'

Trowa laughed. 'I promise someone will very definitely come. Two someones. You don't need to worry about anyone else. The path we came is the only way up here; we'd see anyone else for miles around. You know, this will probably work way better if we're both naked.'

'I suppose.' It was ridiculous, but he was still a tiny bit shy, stripping off. 'I hope you didn't forget the lube this time. Or you'll have an awfully long walk back to the car.'

Trowa dug in his rucksack and produced a large tube. 'I didn't _forget_ it that time. I didn't want to be too forward. Of course, that was before I knew how demanding you are in bed.'

'You can't talk!' Quatre shot back. 'You never think of anything but sex.'

'I do too! I think about food, and hot blond guys, and the things I want to do to a certain blond guy, and oh, I guess you're right. Fancy that!' He reached up one hand and caressed Quatre's face gently. 'Right now, there's something I'd really like you to do to me. Will you?'

'Are you sure?'

'Cat, I'm naked with my legs spread, you're sitting on top of me, I'm waving the world's largest tube of lubricant in your face and I'm about to spontaneously combust if you don't do something. What part of _yes_ do you not understand?'

'I understand,' Quatre said, very softly.

Trowa squirmed at the first touch of Quatre's fingers, and then relaxed into the gentle touch.

'Oh, that feels good. Cat, just take it slowly, OK? It's a while since I've done this.'

'I'll take it slowly, very slowly,' Quatre promised. He did. He knew Trowa well enough now to respond to most of his signals; the way his breath hitched or the sudden quickening of the pulse in his throat or that sigh that seemed to come from the bottom of his heart.

'Wow,' Trowa whispered. 'You're good at this.' His eyes were closed, but his mouth had relaxed into a smile, and he sounded creamily content.

'It gets better, I hope. Ready?' At Trowa's quick nod, he bent down and kissed him, tongue arching between Trowa's lips as he eased himself carefully into Trowa's body.

And like that, it miraculously got even better.

There were things he hadn't known about Trowa. How the so-tight embrace of his body would feel. That he apparently liked to be dominated, a little. The way his breath came in short, harsh pants when Quatre started to move in him. That glorious, glowing smile, when they climaxed, within a heartbeat of each other.

'Wow again,' he said finally, soft as breath, when Quatre rolled off him, cuddling close. 'We are _so_ doing that again soon.'

'Oh, _yes_,' Quatre agreed emphatically, dropping his head to tease one of Trowa's nipples with lips and tongue and the tiniest scrape of teeth.

The day was slowly dying, the last golden remains of sunlight provided just enough illumination to look at his lover. Trowa was pure perfection; pale skin stretched over lean muscle with a scattering of golden here and there. Quatre's mouth moved languorously over him, kissing every freckle, and the tiny scar on Trowa's left arm from having a mole removed, and sliding his tongue into the little indentation of his navel. There was a mark on his right hip that he hadn't noticed before; a long seam where flesh had been joined to flesh.

'How did you get this?'

'Knife,' Trowa said briefly.

Quatre frowned, looking at him. 'I don't understand. How could you cut yourself there by accident?'

'Not an accident, Cat. In a fight.'

'Oh.' That sent his thoughts whirling back to the night they'd met. To the light from a streetlamp glittering off the blade in Trowa's hands. Blood in a puddle on the ground. The smell of stale beer, and the earth-shattering fact that someone had deliberately struck him and planned to do more.

He felt, suddenly, sick.

'Hey.' Trowa was there, suddenly, arms wrapped around him. Trowa, after all, was the one who'd saved him. 'It was a long time ago, Cat. Years.'

'What happened?'

Trowa hunched one shoulder. 'I was a bit of a tearaway when I was a teenager. After my parents died, Cathy and I came to live here. I told you that, right? Cathy fit in right away. She loved staying in one place, going to school every day. The routine. I guess she needed that sort of stability. I hated it. _Hated_ it.'

Quatre wrapped his fingers around the hand clenched in Trowa's lap and got a very faint smile in return.

'I got in with this gang. The Mercenaries, they called themselves. Just some punk kids who thought they didn't fit in either.'

'A gang? Really?' Quatre breathed.

'Nothing serious. Honest. A bit of shoplifting. Joyriding. The sort of stuff bored kids do. Had a few fights with guys from other parts of town. Smoked some pot, that sort of thing.'

That jerked Quatre upright. 'You did _drugs_?'

'A couple of times,' Trowa said defensively. 'Cat, chill. I smoked a few joints. It's not like I was mainlining heroin.'

'Oh. Sorry. I didn't mean to sound judgemental. It's just anything like that gets the death penalty on L4.'

'Well, it's been years since I did anything like that. It was a bit of a lark, you know. Growing up at the circus, most people didn't pay that much attention to rules and regulations. And we were always on the move anyway; seeing new places, new performers coming and going. It was so damn _dull_ staying in one place all the time. I guess stealing cars and CDS was one way to relieve the monotony. So were fights with other gangs.' He touched the scar on his hip with one finger.

'I imagine they would be, yes,' Quatre said dryly.

'Hey, I grew up, I promise.' Trowa hugged him. 'I got a serious wake up call when I was sixteen or so. I'd kind of been seeing one of the guys in the gang. Kurt. He was the first guy I'd ever been with. He and some of the others took a car out one night; we used to steal sports cars and race them. I wasn't there; I forget why. They had a crash; a couple of them walked away but Kurt was killed.'

'Oh, _Trowa_!' Quatre snuggled into him, flinching at the raw pain in Trowa's voice. 'I'm so sorry. That's awful.'

'Yeah. Anyway, that's my dark past, such as it is. Sure you want to be with someone like me?'

Of _course_ I am! Always. You were so young and you must have been missing your parents dreadfully. Your whole _life_ changed!''

'Thanks. Well, I started to pull my act together a bit after that. Met Wufei and actually started to do schoolwork.' He grinned. 'What about you? Ever do anything like that?'

'Gosh, no.' Quatre thought about it. 'I did once steal a spoonful of cooking sherry from our kitchen.' He grimaced. 'It was disgusting! I didn't touch alcohol for years after that, I was so sick.'

'God, you're cute,' Trowa smiled at him. 'So what was growing up like for you? Were you happy as a kid?'

'Sometimes, yes. I suppose I wasn't desperately _un_happy, if that makes sense. I went to school; I had private tutors at the weekend. I loved music and riding and reading. I didn't have a lot of friends, really. Father didn't like me going to other people's houses or to the cinema or anything like that. Too much of a security risk.'

'You seem to have a fair bit of freedom now, don't you?' Trowa commented. 'I mean, they let you come off with me into the wilderness.'

'It's a bit different now.' Quatre shifted slightly, tucking his head under Trowa's chin. 'When I was very young, I was the only possible heir to WEI. Now, most of my sisters are married with children so I have nephews. I'm not expendable any more.'

'You are to me.'

'That's a lovely thing to say.' Quatre turned, winding his arms around Trowa's neck.

'It's true. You didn't mind, not being the Chosen One any more?'

'Oh, no! It was marvellous! I mean, Father and Iria made me take Rashid or Auda with me if I went out; well, they still do, half the time, but at least I _could_ go out and do things. I'd never have been able to go to Canada if I'd been the only possible one in the line of succession.'

Trowa shook his head. 'It's almost like you're royalty or something, sometimes, the way you talk.' He leaned down and tucked the blanket around them both. 'It's starting to get chilly now. We should probably move into the tent.'

'Not yet, please,' Quatre begged. It was so beautiful; the first stars were starting to appear against the indigo sky, and there were bats flitting about. 'I'm not that cold.'

'I'll keep you warm,' Trowa promised. 'Can I ask you something, Cat?' He was obviously trying to sound offhand, but not quite making it. 'After the way you grew up, are you sure you'll be happy living over a shop in a backstreet?'

'Positive that I'll be totally ecstatic!' Quatre said firmly. 'Once you're there with me. Honestly, Trowa. You've no idea how happy I've been since we met. I've never felt like this, ever.'

'Never?' Trowa kissed his forehead gently.

'Never ever! I thought I loved Jordan, but it was never anything like this.'

'Tell me about him?' Trowa invited. 'You seriously haven't spoken to him since all this started?'

'Oh, no. Our lawyers said it was best not to.'

Trowa grunted. 'Hmm. If I were you, I'd do the opposite of whatever my lawyer said.'

'Well, maybe. I don't know. I thought we were friends, still. It just really hurts, that he's doing something like this.'

'Yeah. I can imagine.' He bent to give Quatre a sweet kiss on the mouth. 'It won't be the end of the world, Cat, if he does end up going to the papers or whatever he's threatening to do. You said the parliament on L4 is voting on legalising homosexuality. .I looked that up on line yesterday; it's almost certain to pass. That would make our lives a hell of a lot easier, if you didn't have a jail sentence or whatever hovering over you. And it'd be illegal for your board members to discriminate against you.'

'Maybe.' Quatre wasn't terribly convinced. Attitudes on L4 wouldn't change magically just because some law had been passed. 'I hate the idea of the whole universe knowing my private life. _Our_ private lives, really. I just don't see why it's anyone else's business who I fall in love with.'

'It's mine, I hope.'

'Well, duh.' Quatre tried to mimic Duo's accent and made them both laugh. 'All right, yours and mine. No one else's. Can I ask _you_ something now? Why do you hate lawyers so much?'

'Oh, God,' Trowa muttered bitterly. 'My big failed love affair. Yeah, OK. He was called Treize, he was a lawyer. I think I told you that. I met him in this fancy club, Not my kind of place; Wufei'd got us tickets from a friend of his. We got chatting at the bar; he asked me to dance, took me home after. He was older than us; really classy, you know. The sort of guy you dream about. I guess we were together for about a year. I was in my last year at uni, and he used to do these amazing things for me. He'd buy me first editions of the books I was studying, take me to the theatre. It was perfect.'

'What happened?'

'He met somebody else.' Trowa shrugged. 'It wasn't even that simple. He met a girl, got engaged to her. He didn't even bother to tell me; I just happened to see the engagement notice. He couldn't work out why it upset me. As far as he was concerned, he had to have kids to carry on his name, and there was no reason why it would interfere with us.'

'That's so terrible!' Quatre buried his face in the curve of Trowa's shoulder, feeling a twinge of guilt. But it wasn't the same thing, really. He and Relena had never been officially engaged, and it was all over anyway.

'It was…moderately pissy, yeah. Cat, it was years ago. I'm over it now.'

'But you haven't really been serious with anyone since then?'

Another shrug. 'It's not like there haven't _been_ other guys. They just never lasted very long. Not 'til I met this dreamy blond guy who's had me wrapped around his little finger since the minute I saw him?'

'Have I really?' Quatre asked delightedly.

'Jesus, do you have to ask? Of course you do!'

'Since we're doing the whole confessions things, can I ask you something else? That guy, Jordan, was he your first?'

'Oh, no.' From the look on Trowa's face, that was something of a surprise. 'It's not….easy to be gay on L4, Trowa. But people are. There are places you can go. They call them bath-houses or massage parlours or things like that, but they're not really.'

'Don't take this the wrong way, but I can't see you doing something like that.'

Quatre sighed miserably. 'It's amazing what you do when you're lonely enough. When you just want to stop pretending for an hour or so.

'Cat, I wasn't criticising you. God, I couldn't. It's not like I haven't brought random guys home from clubs.'

'It's different,' Quatre whispered. 'I'm sure you at least knew their names. Danced with them a few times, had a drink and talked a little bit. For me, it was just a quick fuck in a dark corner. A kiss or two if you were lucky. It wasn't safe, usually, to give your name, in case someone found out.' He wrinkled his nose, remembering.

Male forms indistinctly seen through the steam in a sauna or steam room. A hand extended in invitation, or given in acceptance. Those tiny dark cubicles, smelling of sweat and sex. That quick surge of completion, with maybe a brief word of thanks or appreciation. Guilt and shame and terror that, this time, someone might find out.

Walking back to the car and not daring to meet the driver's eyes because of course he knew perfectly what had just happened.

Resolving _never again_, and knowing deep down that he would, because there was nothing else.

'It was horribly sordid, really. Nothing like us.'

'Good.' Trowa was suddenly wound around him. 'You'll never have to do anything like that again. Ever.'

'Thank you.' He was shaking, even with Trowa's warmth and closeness. 'God, I love you. If I hadn't met you, I don't know what I would have done.'

'Stop that!' Trowa admonished firmly. 'Just stop, Cat. You were always going to meet me at some point. _Always_. We were meant to be together. And I love you too. More than anything.' He stood up, with Quatre still wrapped around him. 'Come on. You're shivering. Let's get you inside and warm you up.' He kissed Quatre's eyelids, tongue sneaking out to lap up the tears. 'Stop crying, love. I've got you.'

Just the two of them in the whole universe.

'This is amazing.'

Trowa grinned. 'Well, your idea for a trip was nice too. That villa in the Bahamas.'

'I'd like that so much. Duo won't mind taking care of the shop, will he?'

'He'll be fine.' Trowa fed some more twigs into the fire. 'It sounds great. I've never been anywhere like that.


	29. Code Red

Note: Thank you to KS for doing the editing thing, as per usual, and to everyone who has been reading and commenting.

**Code Red:**

'Still quite sure you won't take the day off and spend it with me?' Zechs tempted, making Duo groan.

'I can't, Zechs. Not without giving Tro a bit more notice.' He wanted to, though.

He'd been woken an hour or so previously, by Zechs' talented, teasing tongue on his early morning arousal, and still been half asleep when Zechs flipped him over and slid into him.

After a lingering shared shower, Zechs had left him to wallow in the massive bed while he ran downstairs to get breakfast.

No one had ever pampered Duo like that before and it was pretty mind-blowing.

'Such will power, darling,' Zechs teased, leaning over to lick a few stray crumbs from Duo's mouth.

'It's self preservation!' Duo shifted position slightly and winced. 'If I don't get out of this bed, I'll never walk straight again. Work isn't going to be all that much fun as it is.'

'Which is exactly why you should stay here with me,' Zechs told him glibly. 'No? Maybe I should give you a pillow to take with you when you leave so you can sit down.'

'Very funny.' Duo reached for another of the huge, buttery croissants. He was starving! No wonder after all the activity in that bed.

'I'm just trying to help. You don't have to be in work until ten, do you?' He lifted one eyebrow. 'And if you're a little sore, I'm sure I can make you forget all about it.'

'In your dreams, Merquise. Not unless you're willing to be the one underneath for a change.'

Zechs shook his head firmly. 'I don't do that. And I thought you seemed more than happy with the current arrangement.'

'Yeah, except I'm the one who ends up exhausted,' Duo muttered. It was always the same; guys saw the long hair and slim build and made certain assumptions about him. Why should Zechs be any different?

'Then we need to work on your stamina.' Zechs smiled at him. 'Hmm. Maybe I _should_ let you go to work after all. It's very difficult to keep my hands off you when I have you here with me. What time do you finish tonight?'

'Seven.' Duo took a swig of his coffee. 'But I really need to go back home. I have to get clothes and feed my fish and water my plants and stuff.'

And fall into bed and sleep his brains out, rather than having them _screwed_ out by his far-too-sexy, insatiable boyfriend. OK, that wasn't entirely fair. If he said _no, _and meant it, Zechs would respect that. The trouble was that he was far too good at turning Duo's _no_, into _yes, please_.

'Poor little fishes,' Zechs teased, 'starving because I keep dragging you back to bed. That's fine. I can collect you from the shop, drop you home to do whatever you have to do, and then we can go out. What would you like to do? I'd love to take you out dancing.'

'That'd be great, some other time,' Duo answered. 'But, seriously, I think I need an early night tonight.'

'Don't be silly. I wouldn't be much of a boyfriend if I left you all alone.' Zechs bent his head and kissed the tip of Duo's nose. 'Tell me what you'd like to do. Anything.'

Just like that, Duo's will-power curled up and died. He was being a damn idiot, that was his problem. He had a boyfriend, who was potentially the hottest guy on the planet, practically begging for his company, and he was turning him down to go home and sprinkle fish food.

'OK. But I don't want to do anything dressy-up. Can we just get pizza and go watch a movie?'

'That sounds wonderful.' Zechs sounded like he meant it. 'If you'd rather not go out, we can just get some DVDs and watch them here. I have a rather good entertainment system, and some very comfortable couches.'

'I'd kind of like to go out, actually. There're a couple of new releases I want to see.' That wasn't the entire truth. Curling up on a cosy couch sounded pretty nice, but that would lead to more sex, and even if Duo hadn't had enough for a while, his ass had. It would actually be nice to do something more ..date-like, that involved proper conversation and getting to know each other a little bit.

'All right.' Zechs looked at the clock on his dresser. 'If you're quite sure you won't stay, we'd better get up or you'll be late.'

'And whose fault would that be?' Duo quipped, jumping out of bed and then regretting it as every muscle in his lower back groaned with pain.

'Mine. All mine.' Zechs didn't sound terribly apologetic as one large hand snaked out and caressed Duo's bottom gently. If anything, he sounded rather pleased.

He was charmingly attentive on the drive to Wish, stopping to buy Duo another coffee, and a selection of snacks, to 'keep his strength up'.

'You're sure you're all right?' he asked, pulling up outside the shop.

'Yeah, I'm OK.' Duo covered a massive yawn with one hand. 'Just tired. And I maybe shouldn't have drunk all that champagne last night. I've got a bit of a headache.'

'My poor baby. Never mind, I'll have you tucked up in bed early tonight, I promise.' He winked. 'Although I can't promise how much actual sleep you'll get.'

'Then I'll be sleeping in one of your guest rooms!'

'Don't say that. Now give me a kiss and go and abandon me.'

'You could come in for a bit,' Duo suggested. It felt really good, having Zechs' arms around him, and all that feathery-soft hair whispering against his skin. 'We're usually pretty quiet this early. You could hang out and talk to me.'

'Perhaps some other time.' Zechs gave him a quick peck on the cheek, and leaned over to open the passenger door. 'I'll see you this evening, sweet. Don't forget this time!'

Duo snorted. 'Not like I could if I tried. I'll remember every time I sit down.'

'Well, I did offer you a pillow,' Zechs smirked at him, blew one last kiss and whizzed off.

Heero was sitting behind the shop counter like he belonged there, tapping at Trowa's computer.

'Hey. Where's Trowa?'

'Didn't you get his messages? He and Quatre have gone on a hiking trip to Lake Victoria and they're planning to camp there tonight. He tried to call you last night.'

'Oh.' Duo fished out his cellphone and grimaced. 'Shit. My battery's dead.' Hardly surprising; it was a couple of days since he'd been home to recharge. 'Are they OK?'

'They were fine this morning. Quatre was very excited about the trip.'

'Yeah, I bet. So how come you're looking after the shop?'

'I offered. Trowa wanted to head off early this morning so I said I could come in until you arrived. Middie has an exam so she won't be in 'til lunchtime.'

'That was nice of you.' Duo fidgeted with a stack of books that had been perfectly aligned at right angles and then shifted them back again. 'Anyway, I'm here now and I'm sure you've got better stuff to do than hang around here all day. You've probably got work or something.'

Heero nodded. 'I'm supposed to be meeting some prospective clients at eleven. I'll try to get back later; I promised Trowa last night to install some new software on his PC.'

'Oh, right.' Duo pinned on a determined smile, stupidly disappointed Heero wasn't going to be around. 'Maybe you can let me watch you install it? I've got this windows programme on my pc that should be in the Microsoft museum by now.'

'It might be worth money, then,' Heero teased. 'If you bring your computer into the shop tomorrow, I can update your system.'

'Thanks, but no can do. It's an ancient desktop and it'd probably fall apart if I tried to move it.'

'Well, I can maybe drop by some time and take a look at it,' Heero offered. 'Are you around this evening?'

'Uh, no, I'm going out with Zechs. Maybe tomorrow?' Or no that was a bad idea. The last thing he needed was to be alone in his apartment with the gorgeous Heero; the two of them crammed into the tiny alcove where his computer lived. 'Actually, I can just give you my spare key if you like. If that's OK?'

'That's fine.' Heero pocketed the key. Damn, it was impossible to know what he was thinking when he went all …stoical. Like a Vulcan. 'I'm actually going to an office block near where you live. If the meeting doesn't go on too long, I can drop in before lunch.'

'Only if it's no trouble.' Duo suddenly felt a bit mean. Heero probably had a million other things to do, and Duo was just ordering him around. 'I mean, you don't need to feel that to have to…'

'Duo,' Heero interrupted. 'It's fine. I can't promise I'll have time, but I'll do my best.' He flicked Duo one of those gorgeous, luminous smiles. 'You've got me intrigued about your antique computer programme; you know I like messing around with computers.'

Oh, damn. That smile, coupled with the _messing around_ reference, suddenly had Duo thinking bad things. Very Bad Things. What the hell was wrong with him? He had a boyfriend and Heero was probably only being nice to him because he was a friend of Zechs'. Yeah, that was it.

''OK. Once I'm not messing up, uh, interfering with ,' – oh, God, that was even worse – 'your plans. If you do get there about lunchtime, just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge.'

'Thank you. But your friend Hilde told me they cook chilli on Wednesdays. She's promised to keep some for me.'

'Oh, yeah. I forgot you went out with Tro and Quat last night. Did you have fun last night?'

'It was nice, yes, but it wasn't as much fun without you. Trowa and Quatre insisted I go with them, but they really just wanted to talk to each other. I ended up having a long talk with your friend Hilde. She's very interested in people, isn't she?'

'Oh, God,' Duo groaned. 'I suppose that means she gave you the third degree. I hope she didn't ask anything too embarrassing.'

'Not really.' Heero fiddled with the pen in his hand. 'She's very fond of you.' He hesitated. 'And I think maybe a little concerned about Zechs. Once she found out I was a friend of his, she was asking me all about him.'

'Well, it's none of her business!' Duo snapped, glaring at the bright lights in the ceiling that were skewering into his skull. 'No one's business except ours.' He turned the glare on to Heero. 'So, what did you tell her?'

'I said that he seemed very fond of you,' Heero said neutrally.

Huh. Another one who obviously didn't approve. Well, tough.

'I guess you think I'm not good enough for him, right?'

'No!' Heero said vehemently. 'I don't think that at all. I think he's incredibly fortunate to have you.'

'Oh,' Duo deflated like a bullfrog with a bullet in its throat. 'Sorry.'

Heero was staring at him. 'Why in the world would I think you're not good enough for Zechs?'

'You know. The whole prince and the pauper thing. He's this rich celebrity and I work in a kids' bookstore. Stuff like that.' Oh, shitshitshit. Heero's eyes, that uncanny, unique, shade of blue, were still fastened on him, and Duo could feel his skin getting redder and redder.

'I'm sure Zechs doesn't care about any of that. No one would.'

Duo didn't think he'd moved; didn't think Heero had either, but suddenly they were inches away from each other.

His brain was supplying all kinds of stupid, corny lines for Heero to reel off, from _I wish he hadn't seen you first _to _Dump him and run away with me._

In real life, Heero just nodded and said goodbye.

Jesus, he was really going to have to stop with all these near-miss hugs and kisses and snuggles.

Shi_tshit_SHIT**SHIT**.

Duo took a deep, hopefully-calming breath, and sent off a long, slightly naughty text to Zechs. His boyfriend. That should eliminate any Heero karma. Hopefully. Heero was Zechs' friend. Zechs had probably asked him to be nice to Duo.

Luckily, the morning was busy enough that he didn't have that much time to think. By the time, Heero came back at one, Middie had just arrived and he'd calmed down enough to accept Heero's invitation to lunch at Howard's.

Heero was a friend; of course they could have lunch together.

It wasn't even that awkward. They talked books and bikes and Hilde was too busy serving other customers to make too many pointed comments, bar taking every opportunity to point out just how much they had in common.

Back at Wish, they played chess between customers. That was the way to go; lots of activity meant less time for thinking about…stuff. Heero trashed him the first game; Duo just won the second thanks to a sneaky little move Wufei had shown him. They were battling out the third when Wufei himself walked in.

That was something of a surprise. He was probably Trowa's closest friend, apart from Duo, but he rarely called into the shop.

'Hey, 'Fei.' Duo, black knight in hand, grinned up at him. 'What's up?'

'Is Trowa around? I've been trying to call him for hours, and every time I call the shop it's engaged.'

'Yeah, we've been pretty busy today. He's taken Cat on a hiking trip up to Nova.' He gestured to Heero. 'Sorry, his is Cat's friend, Heero. Trowa's 'phone's probably not getting any reception up there. Why? What's wrong?'

'Nothing, probably. But a friend of Meiran's is working on one of those appalling tabloids, and she overheard the editor discussing some story to be printed tomorrow. Something to do with Quatre Winner.'

'How serious is this?' Heero asked. God, he was sexy when he got all intense and focused. If he was like that in bed, the sex would be amazing.

Gack. Bad thoughts!

Wufe shrugged. 'It's hard to tell. Those papers are always commissioning scandalous stories; a lot of them never make it to print for various reasons. Or it could just be something to do with this business merger and not a personal story at all. I somehow doubt it though; that particular tabloid tends not to dwell overmuch on economics. Meiran's friend just heard a brief snatch of a conversation, but she got the impression it was something sleazy.'

'The other reporter who she heard talking to the editor, that wouldn't be a woman called Casey Something?'

'I think that was the name, yes. Why? Do you know her?'

'Not as such. But she wrote the piece on Tro and Cat yesterday, and she's going out with Cathy's ex, Rob. I don't really get why she's wanting to write more another story about them. It's not exactly major news, is it?' Duo asked. 'No one even knows who Quat is on Earth, and it's not like he's doing anything against the law here in Sanque.'

'I know,' the Chinese man nodded. 'It doesn't make a lot of sense. I'm surprised they even published that article about them yesterday. I can't imagine it particularly interested many people. They were probably just looking to fill up space.'

'Yeah, I know.' Duo twiddled with the end of his braid then stopped when he saw Heero was watching him. 'There's just one thing. Rob the asshole is going out with this journo, like I said. We worked out that he's the one responsible for the photo in the paper. Anyway, Tro got pissed off when he heard and stormed off to see him last night. Maybe he bashed Rob and Rob's girlfriend is trying to dig up more dirt as revenge.'

'Trowa seemed fine when he got back last night,' Heero cut in. 'It didn't look like he'd been in a fight. No blood or bruises or anything.'

Wufei and Duo looked exchanged glances. 'That doesn't mean a whole lot,' Duo said finally. 'For one thing, he could take on Rob with both arms behind his back. Shit! I knew him storming off like that was a bloody stupid idea. Now, he's got Rob pissed with him, and Rob knows way too much stuff about Tro.'

'But Trowa doesn't have anything unlawful against him,' Heero interrupted, and then looked vaguely self-conscious.

'You know that how?' Duo demanded. 'Shit! You looked up stuff about him, didn't you? That's illegal, Heero!'

'Well, yes, but I wanted to see what sort of person my best friend was getting involved with. Anyway, I didn't find so much as an unpaid parking ticket.'

'No, you wouldn't.' Duo sagged backwards on his beanbag, looking up at Wufei, who just shrugged.

'If you're right about this, you may as well tell him,' the Chinese man said. 'It'll be all over the media tomorrow.'

'Tell me what?' Heero asked sharply.

Wufei walked over to flick the _Closed_ sign on the door and lock it as Duo sorted out what to say next.

'Here's the thing. When Trowa was younger, just a teenager, he did some pretty stupid stuff. Nothing too heavy; he just got into fights a lot and did a bit of shoplifting and that. He was never convicted of anything but he had a bit of a reputation. You know? The cops knew him, knew the gang he used to hang out with, but they never pinned anything on him.'

Duo, who'd lived on the streets, looked anxiously over at Heero. Personally, he'd had never had an issue with any of that. He'd done the same and worse in his time. A law-abiding citizen like Heero probably would, but Heero just gave him a little nod.

'This was after his parents died and he came to live here, yes? I don't blame him for going off the rails a little.'

'Yeah. Anyway. He calmed down a bit, eventually. Then this guy at school started hassling Cathy, following her around, making comments, that sort of thing.'

'Trowa half killed him,' Wufei said quietly. 'I managed to drag him off, but I had half a dozen other people helping me. Muller was in hospital and then rehab for nearly a year, and Trowa got sent to a remand centre for six months. He was only sixteen, so the records are sealed.' He turned those black eyes on to Heero. 'I can't imagine the Winner family would be ecstatic for Quatre to be consorting with someone who has that sort of record.'

'They're somewhat less than ecstatic right now,' Heero said dryly. 'But no, they very definitely would not approve of that. Especially if it were blazoned all over the media.' He flipped open his laptop. 'Not to mention that Quatre desperately disapproves of violence. Do you think Trowa's told him?'

Duo shrugged. 'It's not something he tells a lot of people. He might've told Cat but….what are you doing?'

'This newspaper is the same as the one yesterday, correct? I'm checking the editor's diary and emails. If he's planning a big story, there must be some record of it.'

Wufei's eyes widened. 'You can't do that! It's a blatant invasion of privacy!'

'It's in a good cause,' Duo said quickly. 'And it's not as if he's planning to do anything _wrong_ with the information.'

'Well, not much.' Heero sounded grim, as his fingers flew over the keyboard. 'Oh, _fuck_.'

Duo's eyes widened; he didn't think he'd ever heard Heero curse before.

'Do you know where Trowa and Quatre are?' Heero demanded. 'Could you take me there?'

'Well, yeah, I guess, but Heero, it's way too late to go there now. It takes about three hours to drive to Nova, and then you have to hike and it's already starting to get dark.'

'I'm not going to drive. I'm going to go by helicopter.' He already had his cellphone out, jabbing at buttons.

'You know how to fly a helicopter?' Duo blurted, at the same moment that Wufei demanded, 'Excuse me, but who exactly are you?'

Duo shrugged. 'Like I said, he's Cat's friend.

'God, I hope Trowa has some idea what he's getting into. Duo, I have to go. I have a radio interview with the CEO of the Royal Bank and I can't miss it. Call me, all right?'

Duo nodded, opening the door to let him out.

Heero was ignoring them both, speaking quickly into his phone. 'Rashid? It's Yuy. We have a serious problem. There's a story being printed tomorrow about Quatre. I've just forwarded you the details. Can you see if the legal team can do anything about it? They have to stop it somehow, or it'll destroy him. Yes, I've _tried_ calling him, but they're up a mountain and out of range. I'm going to get him now. I've got someone here who knows where they are, but I'll need a helicopter. Can you organise that? Fine, yes, I can be at the airport in half an hour.'

He looked over at Duo. 'Are you ready? You'll probably want to bring a coat or something?'

'Uh, Heero, I'm not just going to take off with you like this. It's insane. There's nothing you can do, and I've get a date with Zechs…'

'Sweetheart, you remembered.' The blond pushed the door open, making them both jump. 'What on earth is going on?'

Duo started to explain, but Heero got there first, grabbing his computer and shoving it under Zechs' nose. 'This is what's going on.'

'Oh, fuck!' Zechs said emphatically. 'What are you doing about it? They're off on some godforsaken mountain, aren't they?'

'Rashid's arranging a helicopter. I'm taking Duo with me; he knows where they are. And hopefully the Winner legal team can kill the story in time.'

Zechs nodded. 'Iria's going to go ballistic.'

'I don't even get what's going on,' Duo protested. 'Sure, Tro's got a few things in his past that don't look too good, but it was over ten _years_ ago, and I don't get why it's going to cause all this trouble. Anyway, I'm not taking off on some wild goose chase with you!'

'You have to, darling,' Zechs laid one hand on his arm. 'Please. Duo, it's not about what they're printing about Trowa. That's not important. It's what they've written about Quatre.'


	30. Reality Check

Note: Thank you, as ever, to KS for editing and to everyone who has reviewed. Apologies in advance for another cliffhanger…..

**Reality Check: **

'Do you think we could we get a dog?' Quatre asked; the tail end of a midnight conversation when neither of them had been able to sleep. Trowa was the most perfect man in the entire universe in every possible way, of course, but as a mattress he was somewhat lacking. 'I'll look after it and everything.'

'Ten dogs, if you want them.' Trowa, who didn't seem to mind sleeping on the impossibly hard ground, was starting to sound drowsy. 'We can go to the shelter next week. I'm sure Duo or Cathy will look after it while we're off on our luxury holidays to the Bahamas and wherever.'

'Oh, it's holidays now, is it?' Quatre teased.

'Yeah.' Trowa reached up to ruffle his hair. 'Here's the way I see it; if I've got myself stuck with this ridiculously rich boyfriend, then I might as well get a few advantages out of him.'

'I think you've already got quite a few advantages,' the blond retorted coyly, swiping his tongue across Trowa's nipple.

Trowa just groaned. 'No chance, Cat. You've worn me out. I'm wrecked'

'Me too. I was just teasing, really.'

'Want to try sleeping for a bit? We've got to walk all the way down that mountain tomorrow morning.'

'Don't remind me. Can't you carry me or something?'

'Not the way I'm feeling right now. Maybe we can just stay up here for ever.'

'And live on nuts and berries and things,' Quatre said happily, tucking his head comfortably under Trowa's chin. 'Mmm. That sounds good.'

Listening to Trowa's breathing, he closed his eyes. Perhaps he could manage to sleep after all? Even if Trowa wasn't very comfortable, he was still warm and real and his two arms were wrapped around Quatre. On second thoughts, he wasn't sure if he wanted to sleep all that much; not when he was enjoying this so much. A world away from his real life.

There was a faint breeze out, stirring the canvas, and a high, wild cry that might be an owl or a fox. It would be amazing; actually to _see_ a wild creature like that. Then there was another low, droning sound that didn't come from a wild animal. He thought he'd imagined it at first, then it became louder. Closer.

'Trowa, what's that?'

'What's what?' Eyes closed, Trowa didn't bother to stir.

'I don't know. Some sort of noise.'

'Probably a fox.'

'Not an animal. Like a car or something. It's a helicopter!'

'Shit!'

Quatre abruptly found himself sprawling on the ground as Trowa jumped up, grabbing his jeans.

'Stay there, OK?'

'But Trowa…'

'I said, stay there!' Trowa snapped, jerking the tent flap open. 'I'm serious, Cat. You get dressed and be ready to run if I say so.'

'OK.' Quatre did as he was told, pulling on his clothes with shaking fingers, and wondering how they'd suddenly been plunged into some sort of action film. Of course, the people in the helicopter had to be after him; choppers didn't just descend on deserted mountain tops in the middle of the night for no reason. It had to be bad.

'Cat?' Trowa called. 'You need to get out here. Now.'

There were two men standing with him when Quatre crawled out. Heero and Duo. None of this made any sense at all.

'What's wrong? How did you find us? Is it my father?'

Heero shook his head. 'No. But it's bad.' He thrust his laptop into Quatre's hands. 'Read this. I've talked to Rashid; he and Iria are doing their best to kill the story. They'll buy the paper if they have to, but you really need to see it. We'll be at the chopper.'

'There's no satellite up here,' Quatre said stupidly, holding the little computer as if it might bite him at any second.

Heero snorted. 'Not for standard equipment maybe. Quatre, just go and read it.'

Trowa followed him back into the tent. Quatre bundled himself up in the sleeping bag, and Trowa flopped down beside him, slipping an arm around Quatre's waist.

'Calm down, Cat. It can't be that bad.'

'Bad enough for Heero to fly all the way out here to find me in the middle of the night.' He was starting to shake, because it had to be very bad indeed.

'Then we'll sort it out together, OK?' Trowa bent over and kissed him, very tenderly, on the mouth. 'The two of us. Whatever it is.'

'OK.' Laptop forgotten, Quatre kissed him back, desperately, needing contact and reassurance.

Trowa was chuckling slightly when they finally pulled apart. 'This isn't the best time to start anything, Winner. Just hold that thought, and we'll get this out of the way first. Deal?'

'Deal,' Quatre agreed, gripping his lover's hand tightly as he flipped the computer open. He had Trowa with him; he could face whatever this was.

His breath caught as he scanned the first few lines of print; obviously a mock-up story for a newspaper. 'Please. Tell me this isn't true.'

It had to be, though; he could see it in Trowa's face.

'You were in prison!'

'No, I wasn't!'

'Well, it's pretty much the same thing! And it was for assault. My God, I can't believe you did something like that. You half killed a sixteen-year-old boy! That's appalling!'

Trowa jerked away from him. 'You don't want to hear my side of it?' His voice was very cold.

'He was just a child! Trowa, how _could_ you?' Despite himself, his eyes drifted back to the paragraph. It was very graphic, coolly clinical as a medical report, and all the more shocking for that. 'I can't believe you did those things to someone.'

'Right. You weren't quite so opposed to me half-killing those guys who were trying to hurt you. Maybe I should have sat down and quoted poetry to them? Or let them get away with it? Would you have preferred that? For the record, I was sixteen as well. The guy had been hassling Cathy for weeks, but she insisted she could handle it. One day I picked up her phone by mistake and read a text that bastard had sent her. It was very….explicit, the things he was planning to do to her. What should I have done, Quatre? Tell me, should I just have let things go on like that until he actually got her alone? '

'NO! Trowa, of course not. I'm sorry. I just….it doesn't say anything like that here. It says 'unprovoked attack'.

'Yeah,' Trowa said bitterly. 'And everything these rags print is so true that of course you believe it. He was a top student, and both his parents were on the board of governors and they had the best lawyers in Sanque. I was the new kid who was failing everything and was in a gang and had been in trouble a couple of times before. Who d'you think was the one they believed?'

'I'm sorry.' Quatre flinched at the look in those green eyes. 'Trowa, I am truly sorry. This is …I don't know. Why didn't you tell me?'

'Work it out, Cat. You nearly blew your top a few hours ago when I told you I'd smoked weed a couple of times.'

'Yes, but this is…..Trowa, please. I am so sorry. I shouldn't have doubted you, not for one second. This is all just so…unbelievable, and I totally overreacted.'

'Hey.' Trowa dropped back down beside him. 'I get it. I should've told you. I would have, at some point.'

'It's all right.' Quatre shifted slightly so they were touching; relieved when Trowa hugged him. 'I'm horribly puritanical about some things. It's the way I was brought up. But I've no right be judgemental with anyone.'

'Never mind that. Your family's not going to like this much, are they?'

'No.' Quatre said it in a very small voice. He would back Iria against some newspaper editor any day, which meant it was highly unlikely the story would ever actually be printed. She would still read it though, and probably think it her duty to tell their father what sort of man Quatre was involved with.

'But…I'll tell them what you told me, that you were defending your sister. Father will understand that. He'll probably approve; family honour is a huge thing on L4.'

'Thanks.'

'Trowa, how could they have known that about you? It's not on any of your records.'

'And how exactly do you happen to know that?'

'Rashid checked. It wasn't anything personal; he does it to everyone I meet and…oh! Did Rob know? I bet he told his horrible girlfriend!'

'Your bodyguard checked me out?' Trowa demanded incredulously. 'And you actually think that's not something you didn't have to mention? What the fuck, Cat? That's a serious invasion of privacy.'

Quatre gaped at him; he'd never even thought of it in that light. 'It's just ….something that they do for everyone I spend time with. They always have. It's only for my protection.'

'I'm not the one you need protecting from. Your life is seriously screwed up if you think that sort of thing is OK.'

'I don't, really.' God, this night was getting worse and worse. Why did all this …awfulness have to happen now, when he and Trowa had been so very happy? It wasn't fair. Idly, just for something to do, he flicked a couple of keys on the computer and the night abruptly got far, far worse.

'Oh, God. No.'

'What is it? _What_?' Trowa reached for the computer and Quatre jerked it away.

'_Nothing_. Please, don't look. It's …there's something we need to talk about.'

'Quatre. Show me.'

Quatre. Trowa had never called him that before, except once or twice as a joke. He wasn't joking. He was as deadly serious as Quatre had ever heard him.

'Can you please let me tell you something first?'

Trowa just took the laptop from him, wordlessly.

This was it, then. Quatre closed his eyes, seeing the printed words dance past, merrily destroying his entire life. Someone who knew him very, very well, had sold their story to the press, and it was all on Heero Yuy's computer screen, in black and white.

'You slept with prostitutes?'

Oh, _God_. Who had done this? The Maguanacs had known, and Iria and his driver, but none of them would do this. Surely. It had to have been someone who worked in one of the clubs, or maybe someone he'd been with.

'Trowa, it wasn't like that, really. It wasn't like paying a prostitute; you just paid a fee to be admitted to these places; like admission.'

'Like going to the cinema?' Trowa asked bitterly. 'It didn't occur to you to tell me any of this?'

'I – I thought you'd have worked it out.' That wasn't entirely a lie. 'I told you I went to saunas and massage parlours. On L4, they're just euphemisms for, well, other things.'

'Oh, I see. It's entirely my fault for not being up to date with slang on your screwed-up colony. Sorry about that. I guess I needed an interpreter to clarify things.' He hadn't moved, physically. He was still sitting beside Quatre, but it felt like there was an ocean of ice between them.

'I don't get you. You think it's OK to dig up personal details of people's private lives for your own benefit; it's OK to pay people for sex in these brothels or bathhouses or whatever you call them. Your life is totally messed up! Fuck, I'm even scared to ask if you used protection on these little jaunts.' Trowa looked him straight in the eye. 'Should I start worrying?'

Quatre swallowed, feeling like he was breathing ground glass. He and Trowa hadn't used anything, the last few times.

'I swear, I have always been careful.'

'Yeah? Sorry, but I'm not really inclined to believe anything that comes out of your mouth right now. Tell me one thing, am I supposed to be insulted or flattered that you never offered to pay me?'

'That's a horrible thing to say!'

'Well, that's how I'm feeling right now.'

Quatre dashed one hand across his eyes. He had to try to stay calm, to fix this. 'Trowa. Will you please, _please_, just listen to me? I listened to your side of things, about what happened.'

Trowa didn't grant him so much as a nod, but he didn't leave either.

'What they've written here,' Quatre glanced distastefully at the screen and immediately looked away again. 'Some of it's true but it's all been …distorted. Yes, I went to some places like this, and I hated it, mostly, but there was nowhere else, and sometimes I just desperately wanted to be with someone and on L4 there isn't really any other way to do that. Yes, I paid an entrance fee because that's what you have to do. It was always totally consensual, and I was always careful. I _swear_.'

He took a deep breath, trying to stop his voice shaking. 'Yes, I believe there are places on L4 where you can do the sorts of things it says here.' Quatre wanted, suddenly, to be sick. 'I have never, never been anywhere like that. You probably won't believe me but that's the truth. I don't think anyone's going to believe me. On L4, some people think that if you're gay, then you have to be a child molester, and you have to be into awful, _awful_ things, so that's probably what my family will believe if they read this.'

He couldn't, for the life of him, have stopped the tears at that point. 'Trowa, I'm sorry I wasn't honest with you about everything in my life, but that's who I am. I'm sure you utterly hate me right now, and if it's any consolation whatsoever, this is going to ruin me, totally. I very much doubt that my father will ever forgive me, or my sisters. I'm sorry I hurt you. I'm sure you'll never believe anything I say, ever again, but I never meant to.'

'Cat.' He was pulling the tent flap open when Trowa's hand gripped his arm tightly. 'You don't just get to run out on me like that.'

Quatre blinked. 'I thought you wanted me to leave.'

'Yeah. Well.' Trowa let him go and then suddenly put both arms around him. 'You're not the only one who gets to over-react. I'm sorry.'

'I don't blame you for one second. Truly.'

Trowa gave him a faint smile. 'I guess neither of us is at his best when these sorts of revelations drop out of the sky, right?'

'Right,' Quatre agreed shakily, folding himself into the curve of Trowa's warm body. 'I love you. I've never loved anyone before, really. I don't want to lose you.'

'I'm not that easy to lose, Cat.' His voice was slightly muffled, lips pressed against Quatre's forehead. 'I guess I'm going to have to start getting used to those interruptions whenever we try to get away together. I'll get better at handling them. Give me a few more weeks and I won't even bat an eyelid when some newspaper digs up dirt on us. Just tell me one thing. You don't have a wife and kids stashed away somewhere or anything like that?'

'Nothing like that, no.' Heavens, it was the oddest sensation, wanting to laugh and cry all at once.

'Good. I really don't want to have to share you with anyone else. Like I said, I want you to be the one special person in my world.'

'I want that too,' Quatre said hurriedly. 'It's the only thing I really want. To be able to be with you.'

'Two minds with but a single thought,' Trowa murmured, tilting Quatre's chin up to kiss him.

'That wasn't the thought I was having! We can't, Trowa. Not with Heero and Duo out there.'

'I suppose.' Trowa sounded reluctant. 'Maybe we should go out and reassure them that we haven't killed each other off or anything?' He loosed the tent flap to poke his head out, and immediately butted heads with Heero, who was leaning down.

'Sorry. Quatre,' Heero said hesitantly. 'I'm really sorry, but you need to hear this. Now.' It's Iria. Apparently, we're not the only ones who got tipped off about the story. Some journalist called Iria to ask for a comment.' He slipped a small radio on to the ground between them.

'My brother most certainly is not gay,' Iria Winner was declaiming in a ringing tone. 'This is all a scurrilous campaign by people who are opposed to L4 signing a treaty with Sanque. Quatre isn't a homosexual; one of the reasons he accompanied me to Sanque in the first place was to propose marriage to his girlfriend.'

Oh, _shit_.

Quatre didn't think he'd ever used that word in his life, even mentally.

'Is that true?'

'_No_. No. Not really.'

'Define_ not really_.'

The reporter's voice on the radio cut into the silence. 'Isn't it true, Ms. Winner, that an ex-boyfriend of your brother is currently threatening to out him as homosexual?'

'It is not! The person in question is a sadly disturbed individual who has indeed made certain false allegations in the past. Quatre is not a homosexual, and I look forward to him announcing his engagement very shortly to a beautiful young lady, who happens to be a citizen of this wonderful country.'

'How much of this is true?' Trowa demanded again, hauling Quatre up.

'Some of it.' He didn't dare to meet those furious green eyes. 'Some of it is true. It's always been expected of me to marry. Iria thought it would be a way to stem any allegations about me being gay, and it would look good for the treaty if I married a girl from Sanque. I did go along with it at first, then I met you and since then I've told Iria, and my father, that obviously I won't be marrying anyone.'

'Obviously,' Trowa echoed in a tone as bland as clear water. 'I see. It doesn't seem like your your sister heard though, does it? According to what she's just said. There isn't really anything else to say, is there? I expect you'll be wanting to head straight back to the city now and see your sister. I'm sure your PR people will have a plan to cover all of this up for you. That's how it works, isn't it? You throw enough money at people and you can get away with anything you want. You'll be able to forget all of this in a few weeks.'

'Trowa! Wait, please. I – I don't understand. I don't just want to forget all of this! I want to be with you!'

In the moonlight, Trowa could have been a statue. 'Too bad. I'm not for sale.' He raised his voice slightly. 'Heero. Quatre's ready to leave now. Duo, d'you want to go back to the city in the chopper or stay here tonight?'

'I'm _not_ leaving!' Quatre protested, trying to find logical thought out of this swirling nightmare. 'We can't just end this. Not now. _Please_.'

'It's over. You have done nothing but lie to me since the first time we met. I've had enough, Quatre.' He reached out and touched Quatre's cheek. 'Reality check. It was never going to work. It was a nice little fantasy while it lasted, but it was never going to be more than that. I should have known that from the start.'


	31. Homecoming

Note : I don't own the GW characters and write purely for fun.

Note 2: Many thanks to KS for beta-ing, and to everyone who has reviewed.

**Homecoming: **

He knew precisely how long the shuttle from Sanque should take to reach L4. Time wasn't behaving very well though. In a few short hours, the universe had tilted.

He and Heero had been on their way back to the city when Iria had called with the news that their father had been rushed to hospital. Heero had diverted the helicopter to the shuttle port and Iria had been there to meet him. She hadn't said, then, that she blamed him. It hadn't been necessary. She'd just given him a quick hug, wished him a safe journey, and told Heero to look after him.

He'd watched the stars for a while, thinking about wishes, and then pulled down the blind.

It was all his fault, Quatre thought. The guilt felt bitter as bile in his throat, threatening to choke him. All his fault, as usual. His mother had died giving birth to him; now his father was close to death and it was his fault.

And Trowa never wanted to see him again.

He'd cried in the helicopter, with Heero alternately trying to pretend he didn't see, and assuring him that they'd fix it all, somehow. His best friend had insisted on coming to L4 with him, and in honesty he hadn't protested very hard.

It didn't feel like he was going home. _Home_ had become Wish over the last few weeks, and now he wasn't welcome there any more.

He spent the long shuttle flight trying very hard not to think about that; about the look in Trowa's eyes before he'd turned and walked away. Heero stayed in the cockpit with Rashid and Auda for most of the trip, giving him privacy. They probably all expected him to break down and cry his heart out but he didn't have any tears left, at that stage.

He'd cried again when Iria rang to inform him that the editor of the tabloid had taken one look at the resources WEI could summon against him, and agreed to kill the story. At least, Trowa's life wasn't going to be headline news.

The one tiny blessing in the whole affair.

No more tears, then. Instead, he flipped open the computer Heero had lent him and spent the last few hours trying to find a solution.

By the time they landed, he had a sketchy outline of a plan in place, and spent the drive to the hospital explaining it to Heero.

His father had just been released from Intensive Care to a private ward. He looked shrunken and terribly vulnerable lying in his hospital bed, attached to wires and tubes and monitors.

'I'm so sorry,' Quatre managed to gasp, before dropping to his knees by the bed. 'Father, I'm so very sorry for everything.'

'Quatre.' Asef Winner's voice was surprisingly strong. 'Stop that. You really have got to stop blaming yourself for everything that takes place in the universe.'

'But it's my fault that you got sick again.'

'No, it isn't.' Asef pulled himself up on his pillows, suddenly not looking like a delicate old man, but one who'd spent most of his life running the largest corporation on L4. 'It's mine. I insisted on attended a board meeting yesterday, against my doctors' orders, and then foolishly allowed myself to get worked up over something that was really quite minor, and had a very mild stroke as a result. It had absolutely nothing to do with you.'

'Oh.' The sheer relief of it took his breath away. 'Truly?'

'Truly. Now, sit down and tell me about this man you've met who's been causing all this trouble? Are you in love with him?'

'Yes.' There was something surreal about this conversation. His father had always known he was gay, but it was something they'd never talked about. It was a little scary and exhilarating all at once. If Asef Winner had ever referred to his son's sexuality before, he had made oblique references to _going through a phase _and how _young men needed to experimen_t. 'More than anything.'

'I see. Am I going to meet him?'

'I – I hope so. One day. But he doesn't like me very much at the moment. Not that I blame him.'

'I assume you're planning to remedy this?'

'I do have a plan, yes. But Father, the doctors said you're not to be worried….'

Asef snapped out a curse in Arabic. 'If you don't tell me, I'll worry myself into another heart attack. Your sister may think she can wrap me up in silk and keep me cocooned from the real world, but that isn't how it works. Now, you want to be with this man, yes?'

'I do.'

'Times are changing, but slowly. You do know the rest of the Board will never accept a chairman who is living openly with another man?'

Quatre nodded. It was something he'd always known. The rest of L4 might be ready to embrace some social changes, but the main boardroom at WEI still had hand-woven carpets from Arabia and the men who sat on them wanted things to be as they had been in the olden days on Earth. 'Of course I do. Father…do….do you mind? What I am?'

Asef sighed heavily. 'What you _are_, Quatre, is my most beloved son. That isn't going to change, ever. I can't exactly condemn you for falling in love either, considering I did exactly the same thing. You know your grandfather never wanted me to marry your mother. He already had a girl picked out for me; a suitable girl from an old L4 family. I don't think he ever truly forgave me for marrying against his wishes. I don't want you to feel that way.'

He squeezed Quatre's hand with thin fingers. 'Allah forgive me, your mother was never happy on L4. Too many conventions, too many restrictions. If I'd been a brave man, I'd have taken her back to Earth and started a new life with her, but I wasn't. And she never complained, not once.' He smiled fondly. 'You're so like her.'

'I wish I'd known her,' Quatre said daringly. Father never, never talked about any of this. They'd all grown up knowing they weren't allowed to talk about Mother because it made him sad.

'She would have loved you,' Asef said firmly. 'There's so much of her in you. She would have been very proud of her son.'

'Thank you,' Quatre whispered. 'But I…I'm not very proud of myself right now. I think I've ruined everything with Trowa, and I know Iria managed to stop that awful story, but there may be more. People know about me now. Journalists. At some point, it's all going to come out.'

He smiled bitterly at the pun. 'You can't really have a chairman with that hanging over him. I'm sorry. I've always known that my life was planned out for me, before I was even born. I've known what I was supposed to do. But, Father, I don't think I can. And we both know that Iria would be a far better CEO that I ever would.'

'If she'd been born a boy, yes. The shareholders will never appoint a woman, and your sisters will all prefer to see their husbands or sons in the position.'

'I know. That's why I don't plan for her to be elected. I told you I had a plan and I do. Listen.'

Asef's eyes were very wide when his son finished. 'You are quite sure you want to do this?'

Quatre nodded. 'More sure than I've ever been of anything.'

'A great many people are going to be unhappy as a result.'

'Very probably. But it's legal. There are several precedents in the family over the last couple of centuries.' His mouth twisted. 'Apparently; it's not just me; not all of our ancestors have wanted to run WEI either. I've already checked with the lawyers, and once I'm appointed CEO, I will have the power to do this. I'm sure everyone will learn to live with it eventually.'

Asef squeezed his hand tightly. 'So. You've finally realised you can't please everyone in the universe.'

'I don't want to, not any more. Trowa fell in love with me, because of _me_. And I realised I've spent my whole life thinking people wouldn't like me unless I was the perfect brother or employee or …'

'Son?' Asef suggested gently.

'I suppose. I always only wanted you to be proud of me, and I've caused so much trouble.'

'Never,' his father objected. 'You've never caused me a day's trouble in your life, save for worrying that you needed a little ….strength of character, shall we say? Not like your sisters.' He chuckled suddenly. 'Do you remember how Marianne threatened to go into a decline when she was forbidden to see that awful man she became infatuated with? Or the trouble we had finding a wedding gown for Elise that wouldn't advertise her condition too blatantly? By contrast, you've been a model child.'

'Hardly that,' Quatre said wryly.

'Stop that,' Asef ordered. 'You're just looking for flattery now.'

'Very well.' Quatre looked down at his hands, still holding his father's. 'I didn't just meet Trowa in Sanque, Father. I made some other friends. People who didn't know who I was, but liked me anyway. It was ….amazing. Even when Duo found out who I really am, he said the only thing he wanted from me was that I make Trowa happy.'

And he'd failed miserably there.

'Who's Duo?'

'A friend of Trowa's. He works in the bookshop. He's amazing.'

Asef smiled faintly. 'Is the one who's been keeping Heero in Sanque then?'

Quatre's head shot up. 'Yes. How did you know?'

'I've known Heero for years, son. I've rarely met anyone who's so driven by their work, and he's missed three meetings in the last week to discuss updating our company software. There's obviously been some incentive to hold him in Sanque.'

'But..how did you know he was gay?'

'Because I'm not the fool my children seem to think I am. I used to think that you and he, well, never mind that. I'm glad he's found someone.'

'It's a little complicated,' Quatre said softly. 'Duo's seeing someone else, and you know Heero. He's far too honourable to say anything.'

'Love does tend to be complicated. I promised Odin, you know, that I'd look after him. Fathers just want their children to be happy, Quatre.'

'Thank you.'

'Now, tell me, what are you planning to do after you drop your bombshell and win your Trowa back? Spend the rest of your life selling books?'

'No. I love being in the shop, and I'll be happy to help out whenever he needs me, but that's Trowa's business. I'd love to stay involved with WEI at some level. I was thinking, when this merger goes through, that I could work at our offices in Sanque. Iria is going to be a wonderful CEO in lots of ways, but she tends to forget that balance sheets aren't just figures. They represent people's lives and livelihoods. I'd like to be a ….a sort of liaison. I know WEI inside out and I can learn about Sanque. I can represent their interests. We've been seeing Sanque purely as a resource we can exploit, but there are _people_ who live there and love their country and someone needs to consider their interests too. I think I can do that.'

Asef shook his head slowly. 'I very much look forward to meeting this Trowa. He's a good influence on you! Now, we need to talk practicalities. It's high time WEI had someone permanent in charge. When I originally stepped down, I think most of the Board thought it was only for a short time, that I'd take a few months off to recuperate and then come back to work. When it was obvious that wasn't going to happen, they assumed you'd take over straightaway, but I convinced them you needed more time to finish your studies, and gain a little experience first. In the interim, they agreed to let your sister take charge, as a purely temporary measure, but I've had many of them approach me to find out just when you'll be appointed.'

'I understand. When is the next board meeting?'

'In two weeks. Would you prefer us to bring the date forward?'

Quatre thought about. Some things couldn't be rushed, and maybe Trowa needed a little time too. 'No. I don't think so. I need to talk to Iria, and I'm going to need some time to prepare my case.'

Asef nodded. 'That makes sense. You want to present your Trowa with a _fait accompli_, yes?'

_Your_ Trowa.

_If only. _

'Something like that,' Quatre admitted. 'I've hurt him terribly, you know. I've lied to him, and let him believe things that weren't true, and I need to make that up to him. Somehow.'

Asef gave him a rather faded smile. 'If he cares for you, he'll forgive you. Eventually.' He lay back on his pillow, breathing a little shallowly.

'Are you all right? Should I call the doctors?'

'Ah, Quatre. Stop worrying. I'm an old man and I need to rest. That's all.' His smile was a little more real this time; full of aching affection. 'Perhaps this was a blessing in disguise. I had a notion that maybe _I_ could go back to running WEI, one day. I see now that's not going to happen. It would never be allowed anyway; after I collapsed in a meeting. It's time for me to accept I need to take a little care of myself. Perhaps I can find a hobby or do some travelling. Things I've never had time to do. Now, I need to rest a little, and you have a great deal of work to do.'

Quatre nodded fervently, bending down to kiss his father's forehead.

Heero, of course, was waiting outside the door. 'How is he?'

'He'll be fine, provided he stops pushing himself so hard.'

Heero snorted. 'That'll be the day.'

'No, I think he's starting to accept things a little. We had the most amazing conversation. About things we _never_ talk about. Me being gay, and my mother, and their marriage.'

'He made you smile,' his best friend observed. 'He's agreed to what you want to do, then?'

'In principle, yes. He has.'

'Well, that's good,' Heero said firmly. 'We have a plan to carry out, and his approval. Are you ready to go home now?'

_Home_.

It wouldn't be home, and even less so without his father there. There would just be his old nanny fussing and servants falling over themselves to anticipate his every wish and assistants clamouring over diaries and schedules and deadlines.

'Not really.'

Heero gave him a long look. 'You'd better come home with me then.'

His friend's little apartment wasn't used all that much. Heero travelled frequently with work, and when he was on L4 he spent a lot of time at the Winner mansion. It was still very much a reflection of its owner's personality, with mountain bikes to squeeze by in the narrow hallway, books and computers and books _on_ computers crowding the shelves in the living-room, and a couple of very comfortable armchairs.

Quatre flopped into one and flicked on the gas fire, while Heero warmed up milk. He wrapped both hands around the out-size mug of cocoa and tried not to think about Trowa. Trowa had made cocoa that very first night in his home. It had been revolting, with brandy and far too much sugar.

Trowa had hugged him tightly when Quatre tried to pretend he wasn't in shock.

He took a tissue from the box Heero was holding out, and rubbed it across his eyes. 'Sorry.'

'Are you going to call him?'

'I tried. His 'phone's switched off.'

'Call Duo then.' Heero looked at him. 'Cat. You need to know what's going on.'

Cat. No one had ever called him that before, on L4.

'I know.' His voice shook slightly. 'I _know_, Heero. Trowa said he never wants to see me again, and maybe Duo feels like that too, and I don't want him to hate me as well.'

'Duo's your friend.' Heero pressed his own 'phone into Quatre's hand. 'Call him. It's morning back in Sanque; he should be in the shop. It's on speed dial. 02.'

'Heero?' Duo sounded out of breath, like he'd just run up several flights of stairs.

'No, he lent me his 'phone. It's Cat. Quatre.'

'Cat!' He didn't sound angry, just relieved and very concerned. 'Are you OK? I tried to call you before, but I think my phone doesn't work for calls to space.'

'I'm all right. Well, I'm not really. How is Trowa?'

Duo's heavy sigh travelled easily half way across the universe. 'He's pretty pissed, Cat. And he's already told me I'm not to talk to you.'

'Oh! Do you want me to hang up? I don't want to get you into trouble.'

'Don't be stupid. Tro doesn't get to tell me stuff like that. He's not here anyway. He drove me back here and then took off. Said he'd be gone for a few days.'

Quatre swallowed. 'You don't think he'll do….anything stupid? You know what I mean.'

'God, no. He's not like that. This is how he deals with stuff, though. Goes off alone.'

'I – did try to call him before. He wasn't picking up.'

'Yeah. I don't know if he even took his phone with him. I made him promise to call every day or so, in case I need to ask him stuff about the shop.'

'Duo, how is he?'

Duo was silent for a few moments. 'He doesn't really do _upset_, you know. He gets mad about stuff, like he was with Rob, and he goes and does something stupid. When he's upset, he just sort of closes down and takes off. When he comes back, he won't talk about it and it's like it never happened.'

After another, longer pause, he started again. 'He was really, _really_ hurt. You know about Treize, right? He's only mentioned him to me a couple of times and that was when he was drunk. I think that was the only other time he's been serious about anyone. And he really fell head over heels for you. He's been out with dozens of guys since I've known him, and he never lets Ellie meet them, or brings them into the shop, or lets them move in with him. You've got to fix this. I _know_ him. He'll go off and brood over this, and convince himself it'd never have worked and then he'll come home and he'll never talk about you. Ever.'

'I want to fix it,' Quatre said haltingly. 'I have a plan, but it's going to take a while and I'll have to stay here to do it. Or do you think I should just come straight back to Sanque and try to talk to him?'

'Whatever this plan is, if it's going to make things better, then do it.' Duo spoke with no hesitation whatsoever. 'I don't know when he's going to come home and you just coming back to say sorry isn't going to do any good. Not after all this. He let himself fall really hard for you, Cat. He doesn't do that. I need you to sort this out, OK?'

'I'll try.' Quatre blinked back the sudden sting of tears.

'Good. Cat, I'd better go. There're people waiting to be served. Say hi to Heero. Call me, right?'

Heero took his phone back. 'He didn't want to talk to me?'

'Oh! Heero, I'm so sorry. He had customers, but he did say to say hello. You should call him back. I'm sure he'd love to talk to you.'

'Maybe later.'

'You should tell him, you know,' Quatre said softly. 'I think he likes you.'

'There's no point. He has someone else.'

Quatre gave his friend a long, hard stare. 'You're in love with him, aren't you?' He already knew the answer; it was the first time he'd ever seen his friend fall like that for someone.

Heero gave a curt nod, hair tumbling over his forehead. 'Since I saw him the first time,' he said in a low voice.

'In the helicopter, before we landed, you told me that if I wanted to get Trowa back, I'd have to work at it, and it wouldn't be easy. If Duo really loves Zechs, then it won't make any difference if you tell him. And if he doesn't, then they won't last anyway.' He took a sip of his drink. 'I don't know, Heero. I'm hardly qualified to give anyone advice on relationships, am I?'

His friend surprised him with a quick, sudden hug. 'Maybe you are. You screwed up but now you're doing everything you can to fix it. And you were brave enough to take the chance in the first place.'

'That wasn't bravery. That was falling in love. And then, as you said, I screwed it all up.'

'Falling in love isn't brave?' Heero lifted an eyebrow at him. 'Trowa's not stupid and he's mad about you. You'll get him back.'

Quatre gave him a brief, grateful smile, not really believing his friend's kind words. He would certainly do everything he could to sort things out, but Trowa had been desperately hurt and might well decide he just didn't want anything more to do with him. 'I hope so.'


	32. All Change

Note: this one comes with a built-in warning for 6x2 fans. Sorry, but you may find certain parts of this chapter offensive….

**All Change:**

Oh, for God's _sake_, Duo thought viciously.

It was one of those days where every damn thing insisted on going wrong.

Trowa had probably chosen the worst week in the whole bloody year to take off in a snit. Middie had college exams, and Cathy was up to her eyes in schoolwork, and Howard had gone on holiday with his bowling team, so Hilde was running the diner and couldn't help out at Wish.

For the past three days, he'd been doing everything in the bookshop and he was ready to drop.

Zechs had insisted on taking him out the previous night, saying Duo needed a break. It had been a really sweet gesture but by the time they'd driven an hour along the coast to the restaurant Zechs had insisted he'd love, Duo, who'd been up since five stocktaking, had been half asleep.

They'd agreed not to mention Trowa and Quatre during dinner, but after they'd admired the quaint little restaurant with its antique furnishings and log fires, and discussed every item on the menu, it didn't leave a lot of talk about. They'd listened politely to each other's account of the day, but Duo wasn't really interested in hearing about a fashion photo shoot, and Zechs didn't really care about the bookshop.

Of course, they'd ended up back at Zechs', and in bed, and Duo had overslept and spent the rest of the day madly trying to play catch up with customers and suppliers and stupid idiots who couldn't work out why a kids' bookshop didn't sell the latest John Grisham.

_Idiots._

One of those days when you really didn't want to be in close contact with the public. One young woman, two screaming toddlers in tow, had returned a bag of books and insisted on a full refund, despite the fact that they'd obviously been read. He'd given her the money in the end, just to get her and the brats out of the place.

He was tired, and desperately worried about Trowa and Cat, and missing Heero.

He'd finally, _finally_ made it to 6pm, and hung up the 'Closed' sign, and was checking the day's takings when the 'phone rang.

Cat, of course. He'd been calling pretty much every couple of hours, just in case Trowa had been in touch. Tonight wasn't any different, because there was nothing Duo could tell him. Trowa hadn't called and wasn't picking up his phone.

Shit.

Why did the hell did life have to be so damn complicated? Tro and Cat had been perfect together, and now it was all messed up, with Cat back home, and miserable as hell, and Tro out God-knows-where in the wilderness all alone because that was what he did when he had a problem.

OK, Cat had screwed up big-time, and he could understand Trowa's reaction, but taking off in a huff, without even letting Cat _try_ to explain and apologise was just insane, in Duo's opinion.

And now there was some asshole knocking on the door, which was displaying a very obvious _Closed_ sign, and making Duo mess up his accounts.

Asshole.

Except it wasn't. It was Zechs.

'What's wrong, sweet? You're looking rather more frazzled than usual.'

'Nothing really. I just had a hellish day,' Duo muttered, letting Zechs wrap him in those long arms. It felt unbelievably good. Zechs looked amazing too, all dressed up in a tuxedo; a bit like a very stylish vampire actually.

'My poor Duo,' Zechs crooned. 'Never mind, it's all over now, and I have a surprise for you.'

'For me?' Duo pulled back and looked up at him. 'Really?'

'For you,' Zechs affirmed, taking a small envelope out of his coat pocket. 'You mentioned last night that you'd never been to an opera, and _Aida_ is playing at the Opera House, so I got us tickets.'

'Wow. That's amazing! Thank you.' Duo took out the two tickets and frowned. 'Zechs, these are for tonight.'

'I know.' Zechs kissed the top of his head. 'Don't worry; we have plenty of time. It doesn't start until nine. I can drive you straight home to get ready. We should have time for something to eat first. You see? I do remember that you like to be fed.'

Oh, hell. What the hell was he supposed to do? Conjure a tux out of thin air?

'That's really, really nice of you,' Duo said carefully, 'but like I said, I've had the worst day ever. I had about three hours sleep last night, as you know perfectly well, and I've been alone in the shop all day and I haven't even had a proper lunch. I'd probably fall asleep on you.'

Those blue eyes gleamed mischievously. 'Oh, I think I could keep you awake. I've reserved a private box for us.'

'Look, I'm sorry. It's just tonight's really bad for me. I was planning on going straight home and crashing on the couch.' Duo took a deep breath. 'I don't think I'd be great company for you. Isn't there somebody else you could ask?'

'Don't be silly.' Zechs took the tickets back and ripped them neatly across. 'All I want is to spend some time with you. Will you have dinner with me? We'll go anywhere you like. Or come home and have I'll Pagan cook us something. All you need is an hour in the Jacuzzi and a massage, and I promise, you'll forget every detail of your horrendous day.'

That was tempting. Very. But if he went back to Zechs', he knew perfectly well what would happen, and he honestly wasn't in the mood. And Zechs never seemed to be out of it.

'I'm sorry. I need an early night.'

Surprisingly, Zechs accepted that. 'All right. Let me drive you home.' He grinned. 'Perhaps you might even invite me in?'

'Zechs, have you listened to a single word I've said to you? It's nice that you want to do all this stuff for me, but seriously, I just want to go home and order a pizza or something and watch some TV and go to bed.'

The blond looked as if Duo had suddenly started speaking whatever it was they spoke in Outer Mongolia or somewhere. 'Truly? You're turning me down in favour of your remote control and fast food?'

'It's not like that.' Duo grinned suddenly, suppressing an urge to tell Zechs to get over himself. 'Well, it sort of is. But _Merlin's_ on, and there's a great Italian restaurant in my street that delivers.'

'You could invite me in. I'll be very good,' Zechs coaxed, standing back for Duo to set the alarm and lock up. 'I'll just sit and watch you and I won't make a sound.'

'That sounds sort of creepy.' It was just weird, to be honest, imagining Zechs in his apartment. Apart from anything, he'd hardly fit in the small living room, with those long legs.

'Can I ask you a question?' Duo wondered abruptly, as he slid into the passenger seat of Zechs' gorgeous car. 'Why do you never let me drive?'

'I never knew you wanted to.'

Duo shook his head. 'Come on, Zechs! My mouth waters every time I'm near your car. Your butler probably has to clean up a little pile of saliva every morning.'

Zechs smiled obligingly, but his eyes were very serious. 'I'm sorry; I don't let anyone drive my cars, or ride my horses. I suppose I'm rather possessive with the things I most treasure.' His free hand slid over Duo's and squeezed. 'Like my partners. But if you wanted a car, you should have told me. I'm sure we can come to some arrangement.'

'I don't want a car,' Duo said bluntly. 'Damn, I'm probably going to hate myself in the morning for saying this!'

'For saying you don't want a car?' Zechs laughed lightly. 'The offer still stands. You're my boyfriend, and I very much like spoiling you.'

'That's not what I meant. Here's the thing; I think we're both looking for different stuff in a relationship. I want to be with someone who's happy to share stuff with me. Not just cars and _things_, but actual thoughts and feelings and all that. I can count the number of times I felt you were really being honest with me, instead of just trying to schmooze me.'

'We've only been out a few times,' the blond sounded a little uncertain. 'Isn't it rather soon to be talking so seriously about all this?'

'I don't think so. We've spent tonnes of time together lately, and I still don't know anything more about you, really, than I could have read in some trashy magazine. Seriously, you never actually talk about yourself; do you know that? And that's a damn shame, because when you forget to put on the act, you're a really great guy.'

'I don't normally have people complain about me like this.'

'Yeah, but you normally only date shallow types like models and actors, don't you?' Duo found he was suddenly smiling. This was the right thing to do; time to stop trying to fit into Zechs' world and get his feet back on the ground. 'I'm sorry, but I don't think this is what either of us really wants.'

'Are you actually breaking up with me?' Zechs demanded, sounding incredulous more than anything.

'Yep,' Duo said cheerfully. 'Zechs, I'm sorry, but it isn't working. Come on, be honest. Look at last night; we spent about an hour reading the menu so we wouldn't have to talk to each other. It shouldn't be like that.'

'Maybe we just need to know each other a little better?'

'Can you stop the car for a sec?' Zechs obligingly did. 'Look at me.' Duo reached up and swept those long, pale bangs away from his forehead, suppressing an evil little moment of wondering what Heero's hair would feel like. 'Let. It. Go. It's not going to work. And I bet if I'd slept with you that first night, you'd have lost interest. I'd just be another notch on your bedpost and I don't want to be that.'

'I don't think you would have been.' Zechs leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, perfectly chaste. 'I'm not taking this as the last word, you know. I'm going to try to get you back.'

Duo rolled his eyes. Oh, great. Now he was taking the whole thing as some sort of personal challenge. Well, it was better than him being heartbroken and tearfully begging Duo to take him back, but still. 'God, has no-one ever taught you what the word _no_ means? N.O.'

It was entirely possible that Zechs didn't know what it meant, he thought suddenly. If you were that gorgeous and talented and rich, _no_ probably wasn't a word you heard very often.

'Is there somebody else?' Zechs asked sharply.

Shit, he was far too damn perceptive. But everyone else in the universe seemed to think he had a thing for Heero, so why not Zechs?

'There's someone I sort of like, yeah,' he said finally. 'But I swear, that's not why I'm doing this. If I really liked you, I'd never have noticed this other guy. And it's not like I cheated on you or anything; he doesn't even know I like him. Zechs, I'm really, really sorry, OK?'

He meant it, although Zechs probably wouldn't believe that either. But this was right. He'd been half-thinking about it for days. Zechs had treated him like a prince, but it hadn't seemed real, most of the time. It was like some shimmering fantasy that didn't really have anything to do with his real life.

'Oh, Duo.' Zechs abruptly released both their seatbelts and pulled him into a hug. 'Stop apologising. You sound like Quatre on one of his guilt trips. Are you quite sure this is what you want?'

'I think so. This probably sounds a bit daft, but it just doesn't feel right, the two of us.'

'Hmmm.' The blond ran one lingering hand down his back, resting on his hip bone. 'I think it feels rather perfect.'

'Yeah, OK,' Duo confessed. 'This bit is nice. But everything else…..honest, sometimes, I felt like I was putting on an act to fit into your world, and I hated that. It's just not me. All those parties you go, I was never comfortable at any of them. And I hated being photographed and all that.'

'All right. If your mind is quite made up, then that's it. But you are going to say goodbye to me properly.'

The kiss – kisses – Duo had to acknowledge, were out of this world. God, maybe this _was_ all a stupid mistake.

No. It was right. He shouldn't be wondering, in the middle of having his mouth ravaged by a blond god, how Heero would kiss.

'Still no?' Zechs lifted a quizzical eyebrow at him, and then shrugged. 'All right. Let's take you home.'

'Thank you.' Duo looked out of the window, thinking, and then just said it. 'Zechs, can I ask you something? What's the story with you and 'Fei?'

'I'm not sure I understand.'

That sort of icily aristocratic tone had probably made Zechs' ancestors irresistible targets for revolutionaries with guillotines and no doubt sent present-day models and minions scurrying for shelter. Well, Duo Maxwell was made of sterner stuff.

'It's not that complicated a question. Wufei. Chang. You know, Chinese guy who usually looks like a pissed off camel. Ring any bells? We met him at that party the other night, and for a second I wasn't sure if you two would challenge each other to a duel or jump each other. So what's the story?'

'Ah. We used to know each other.'

Duo snorted. 'Yeah. I kind of got that. Know like in the biblical sense?'

'We saw each other briefly. He broke it off, and I'd really prefer not to discuss it.'

'Tough. Why'd you break up?'

'Duo! I much preferred you when you were my boyfriend. You were a lot less inquisitive.'

'Well, this is the real me.' Duo grinned impishly. 'See? This is how I behave with my friends. Um, we are still friends, right?'

'Of course we are. But I would prefer not to talk about Wufei.'

'OK. You know, I just broke up with you and you hardly batted an eyelid. I ask you a question about your ex and you nearly take my head off. Do you not think that means something? You miss him, right?'

'Very much.'

'Ever told him that?' Duo waggled his eyebrows. 'I bet he misses you. I've known him for years and there's never been anyone serious for him.'

'It doesn't matter. There were reasons why we broke up and they still exist.'

'Oh? What reasons? Like the fact that he doesn't approve of you frittering an amazing talent away taking magazine pictures that get forgotten in a few days?' He grinned at Zechs' expression. 'I know what he's like. The problem is that he's right a lot of the time, and you're pretty obviously not happy with your life.'

'I have everything anyone could ever want.'

'No, you don't, actually. Sure you've got money and you can buy pretty much everything you want, but you still live alone in that huge house, and sure, you date all those gorgeous guys but you obviously haven't found someone you want to share your life with.'

'For someone who's just dumped me, you're awfully concerned about my welfare.'

'Yeah, because I like you. Not because you're rich or famous or great in bed or because I want something. I just think you're a nice guy, well, the few times you've let me see the real you. And I like 'Fei and I think he's lonely as well, and I think you two could be good together. He'd keep you grounded, and he needs someone a bit frivolous to take him out and make him have fun sometimes, instead of trying to solve all the world's problems. Just call him, OK? Ask him out for a coffee or something.'

'Will it stop you nagging me?' There was a tiny smile curving one corner of his mouth, despite the exasperated tone.

'Maybe.'

'Fine then.' He made it sound long-suffering. 'Anything to make you happy.' He pulled up outside Duo's building and leaned in to press one last kiss on his lips.

'Thank you. For everything. I mean that.'

'My pleasure.' The perfect gentleman to the very last, Zechs got out and opened the door for him. 'Oh, by the way, Duo? That man you like? I don't think you need to worry about him not liking you in return.' He blew Duo a kiss, and zoomed off.

Well, _hell_.

Looking up at his apartment window, Duo frowned to himself. He'd apparently left the lights on; he never did that. Shit. He hadn't been home in a couple of days; he'd wasted a tonne of energy.

Heero was washing salad leaves at the sink in his kitchen. That was weirder still.

'Hi. Um, what are you doing here? I thought you were on L4.'

'I flew back this afternoon,' Heero gave him a little smile that mingled hope and uncertainty and something suspiciously akin to pleading. 'I hope you don't mind, but I did promise to update your computer and I didn't have time before I left. You gave me your spare key before I left, remember? And you told me to make myself at home.'

Whoa. Serious down-the-rabbit-hole weirdness.

'Ah,' Duo asked carefully, 'you flew all the way back from L4 to install software on my pc?'

'Well, partly. I do have some clients to see also, since I left rather abruptly before.'

'Oh-kay.' Duo pulled himself up on to the counter top and stared at his unexpected guest. 'How's Cat? I was talking to him just before I left work. He sounded pretty miserable. I didn't think you'd leave him like that.'

'I'm flying back tomorrow.'

'Oh.' Well, of course he was. He had a job and a life and friends and they were all on the wrong side of the world. And it was entirely stupid of Duo to dare think anything else.

'Heero, you didn't have to cook for me. I can do that. I was just going to order a pizza.'

'Too late,' Heero pointed a hand at the oven. 'It should be ready in a about half an hour. Chicken and broccoli crumble; that's your favourite, right?'

'How do you know that?'

Heero looked up from rinsing out a pot and grinned. 'I ran a statistical analysis of the contents of your kitchen cupboards and the contents of your recipe books and came up with that.'

'_What_?'

'OK, OK. Joke.' He burst out laughing. 'That night I went out with Trowa and Quatre we were talking about our favourite foods. Trowa mentioned yours. I can't believe you fell for that.'

'Ha ha,' Duo tried to sound a bit grouchy at being caught out, but how could you grumble at a gorgeous guy cooking your favourite meal after you'd had a horrible day? Even if it wasn't your proper reality.

'Are you all right? Can I get you a drink? I bought some wine.'

'Wine would be perfect.' Duo eyed Heero's ass as he bent down to get two glasses from the bottom shelf. Pretty perfect actually. No, bad thoughts, Duo. 'And yeah, I'm fine. Just had a not-great day.'

Heero made sympathetic noises as he poured out two glasses. He wasn't all over Duo, fussing or prying though and that was nice.

'I broke up with Zechs.'

'What happened?' Heero's back was turned as he asked the question, peering into the oven and giving Duo another bird's eye view of that lovely backside.

'He wanted to take me to the opera and buy me a sports car.'

'How appalling.' His tone was a model of gravity but when he turned around there was a suspicious little twitch at one corner of his mouth. 'I'm glad you dumped him; you shouldn't have to put up with that sort of treatment.'

'You're on a roll, Yuy. Is it comedy night?'

'Duo, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be flippant. I'm really sorry.'

'Are you? Really?'

Heero was the one to look away first. 'I don't know. I'm sorry if you're upset.'

'I'm not. Not really. It was all a bit – I guess I was sort of dazzled at the start. This gorgeous prince wanting to be with me, and take me to fancy places. I've always dreamed of being swept off my feet, you know, so it was like an amazing dream at the start. That I could have this whole other life. And then I guess I came to my senses and realised my feet had actually been pretty happy on the ground all along.'

'Hn. He is very attractive.'

'Yeah.' Duo took another slurp of wine. 'And tall.'

'Very tall,' Heero agreed, sliding up beside Duo and clinking glasses. 'I'm not.'

'Tall's kind of over-rated actually. I used to get a crick in my neck looking up at him. And kissing was awkward 'cause he had to bend down and I had to stand on my toes.'

'So,' Heero put down his glass and began to count on his fingers. 'You broke up with him because he wanted to buy you a car, take you to the opera, and he was too tall. Is there anything else I should know?'

OK, he'd only had a couple of mouthfuls of wine; not remotely enough to have this sort of effect on him. Duo ran one finger down the stem of his glass. 'There were a few other things. He was always going all out to impress me; mentioning all these famous people he'd worked with, and all the places he wanted to take me too. It was sort of cool at first and then it just got boring. And he never really opened up about himself.'

Heero nodded seriously. 'You want to be with someone who's willing to share, yes?'

'Yes! And someone who can just be themselves around me, someone who can fit into my life. I could never imagine Zechs being here, cooking with me, or helping me out in the shop, or meeting my other friends.' He put his glass down, right beside Heero's, so they were touching. 'There was one other reason I had to break up with him.'

'Hn?'

Duo laughed; amazing how much range of expression you could put into one little syllable. 'Yeah. There's this other guy I've met, and I really like him, and half the time when I was with Zechs I was imagining being with this other person, or wondering what he was doing. You see?'

'That must have been awkward,' Heero said neutrally.

'It was, pretty much. Heero, I'm not normally this…fickle. Honest. I guess I was kind of lonely when Tro hooked up with Cat and Zechs just turned up and no one like him had ever been interested in me before. I used to have this major crush on Trowa, and I knew he wasn't interested but there was always this thought in the back of my mind that maybe one day he'd look at me and realise he wanted to be with me and then he met Cat.'

Heero looked down at his hands. 'I understand. I used to have a bit of a thing for Cat, actually. But he never saw me as anything but a friend.'

'It sucks, right?' Duo said quietly. 'Liking someone and them not liking you back. Not the way you want. That's my other problem, now. I'm not sure if this guy I likes actually likes me, or just thinks of me as a friend.'

'You could always ask him.' Heero was smiling; a beautiful smile that made him look totally different to his usual somewhat forbidding expression. 'But I think he would have to be an idiot not to want you.'

'I don't think you're an idiot, are you?'

'I'm supposed to be rather intelligent, actually.'

'Well, then?' Duo slid off the counter, slipping to stand between Heero's legs. 'Would you be remotely interested in being with an indecisive idiot who's only just realised who he wants? And I swear, I do want to be with you.'

'I already told you, I'm not an idiot.'

'I know. I'd just sort of like to hear you say it.'

Heero slid both arms around his waist, pulling him closer. 'I want to be with you. I have since the first time I saw you. Wasn't it obvious? And I've been resenting one of my best friends because he got to see you first. Will that do?'

'That will do perfectly. I just never thought for a second that anything could happen. I mean, I did guess that you maybe liked me, but you live halfway across the universe, and I'm not into one-time flings.'

'Nor am I.' Heero kissed him, a delicate whisper of mouth to mouth. 'I don't have to live on L4, you know. I have clients all over the colonies and on Earth. Would you mind having a boyfriend who needs to travel rather a lot? I promise always to come home and you could come with me sometimes, if you liked.'

'I'd love that.' For the first time, Duo ran his fingers through Heero's hair. Nothing like Zechs' silken waterfall; it was rather coarse and messy and sexy as hell. 'Hey, can I ask you something? You're not really a gazillionaire like Cat, are you?'

'Definitely not. I'm _nowhere_ in Cat's league. I do have a successful business, but I like to keep it on a small scale where I know all my customers, and I like being able to take time off to do other things. Is that acceptable?'

Duo grinned. 'That depends. What are the other things, and do I get to do them with you?'

'It's a condition of being with me. You know, most of them already, I think. I like travelling and cooking and cycling and messing around with computers.' His eyes suddenly became even bluer and warmer. 'And…other types of messing around.'

'I like messing around too,' Duo affirmed, resting his cheek against Heero's. 'Can I please ask you something? I sort of rushed into things with Zechs and I'd rather take it slowly this time 'round? Is that OK?'

'I like slow.' Heero proceeded to slide his mouth over Duo's and give him an exquisitely, excruciatingly _slow_ kiss. 'And I should possibly say that I don't have a huge amount of experience. Do you mind?'

'No! I don't either, not really. I mean, I have been with people, just not that many, and I always felt sort of clumsy beside Zechs, because he was _really_ experienced, and he knew all sorts of tricks and stuff, and I didn't and…'

'Duo, I'm sorry, but I'd really rather you didn't talk about sex with your ex-boyfriend, who happens to be a close friend of mine.'

'Oh, God!' Duo blushed fierily. 'Sorry, Heero!'

'It's all right.' Heero cupped Duo's flaming face in both hands. 'For the record, I don't know any tricks either, but maybe we could learn some together?' The oven timer _pinged_, interrupting the moment and they both laughed. 'Dinner's ready. Can you get the plates if I get the food out of the oven?'

This was how it would be, Duo realised suddenly. There wouldn't be all that high romance and adoration and pampering he'd had from Zechs. Heero would be his friend and his partner who'd support him and share his life and expect the same in return. And that was pretty damn much all he'd ever wished for.

A wish come true.


	33. Two Out Of Three

Note: many thanks to KS for editing, for Karina for indulging me with lots of Zechs-discussion, and to everyone who's reviewed for making me happy!

**Two Out of Three:**

For Quatre, the next couple of weeks passed mainly in a blur of computer screens, ancient legal documents and meetings. He called Duo several times a day, to get news of Trowa, of course, but partly to enjoy his friend's bubbling happiness,

Even Heero Yuy couldn't move a business across the universe in such a short time, but he'd already found office space in Sanque, and he'd taken a six month lease on a small house, halfway between Duo's apartment and his new office.

Trowa was back at Wish, after almost a week's absence, and he'd made it very clear that he didn't want Quatre's name mentioned. Which was hardly surprising, really.

Every time Quatre hung up, he permitted himself a few minutes to think about Trowa. Then he would shake firmly his head to clear any lingering thoughts, and dive back into whatever he was currently working on.

In the event, the board meeting he'd been dreading turned out to be just a little anti-climatic. He'd been prepared for objections, and protests, and every imaginable sort of opposition, and had tried to cover every possible argument. But it wasn't like that at all, and he later wondered if his father had spoken to the family and major shareholders privately. No one had seemed terribly surprised, and it was all over in less than an hour.

Iria lifted a perfectly plucked brow at him as they walked out of the board-room. There was a press conference to get through, and then the shuttle was already fuelled and waiting for him. 'Well? Are you sure you've made the right decision?'

'Oh, yes. Very much so. Now, I have to tell Trowa what I've done.'

'You have to speak to those reporters first,' his sister objected.

Quatre tossed her a little smile. 'That's what I mean, Irry.'

Trowa was still refusing to speak to him. Or about him, according to Duo. But he presumably still read newspapers and watched the news, so he'd have to hear this.

He stood in front of the phalanx of reporters, wishing it felt a little less like facing a firing squad. He waited until the camera flashes had ceased before motioning to one of the journalists; a young woman in the front row.

'How does it feel to be appointed the new CEO of Winner Enterprises, Mr. Winner?'

He gave her his most charming smile. 'I'm not. That's a question you'll have to ask my sister.'

Quatre waited for the hubbub to die down before speaking again. 'As you say, I was appointed chairman, and then, as is my right, I immediately resigned, appointing my sister Iria in my stead. I believe you will have to speak to her about business matters.'

There was, rather predictably, pandemonium. Among the questions hurled at him were the inevitable ones about his sexuality. It seemed to be pretty much an open secret now. Iria had managed to block one story being published but enough people had known about it that there were rumours. A couple of other papers had printed biographies of the man who was about to be appointed as head of Winner Industries, and there had been vague allusions to his being gay.

Quatre smiled tightly, holding up one hand for silence. 'I'm sorry, but I intend my private life to remain private. My reasons for resigning were extremely personal. I have one thing to say, if I may? I wish to apologise to the people I've hurt recently, to one person in particular.' He gazed into the camera, trying to imagine that he was looking at Trowa. 'I am so very sorry. I hope what I've done today goes even a small bit toward showing that. Everything you said was perfectly correct, but fantasies can, I think, be made real if you want them badly enough, and I'm trying very hard to make ours come true.'

'What are your plans now, Mr. Winner?' a man called.

'I am returning to Earth this evening.' He took a deep breath. 'Not long ago, I made a wish and it came true. A very dear friend told me that sometimes miracles can happen, so I'm going to go to the same place tomorrow and make another wish upon a star that I haven't managed to destroy all my dreams. If that isn't to be, then I can only hope to make up for all the damage I've caused. That's all,' he ended abruptly.

There was some ragged applause and much more confused muttering and more shouted questions, but by then Rashid was there, pulling him away.

In the car, he called Duo.

'Hey, Cat,' his friend greeted him excitedly. 'You really did it?'

'I really did it,' Quatre affirmed. 'Watch the news at six! I hope I don't look as petrified as I felt!'

'How'd you feel now?'

'I have no idea, really. Terrified and excited and numb and I can't really believe what I just did!'

'Well, you did it.'

He could hear the smile in Duo's voice, half way across the galaxy.

'Do you think…it will do any good?'

'Cat, you need to talk to him. You know that. What are you going to do now? Go straight to Wish when you land?'

'I want to, but no, I don't think so. I left a sort of coded message for him in my speech. I think he'll understand. I hope so anyway.'

'He'll figure it out. He's smart.'

'I know.' Smart and perfect and deeply hurt. 'It's to meet me at the nightclub where we first met, tomorrow night. Duo, do you think I could stay with you tonight?'

''Course you can!' Duo sounded a little surprised at the question. 'I'd have offered, but I thought you'd prefer to stay with Heero or Zechs.'

'Heero's not really ready for visitors yet, and I don't want to impose on Zechs. I'm not really sure how things are between him and Wufei yet. Besides, I'd rather like to be with a friend of Trowa's, if that makes any sense.'

'Cool. I'm in all night, so just show up. I don't know if I can fit in all your bodyguards, though, if you're bringing them with you. My place is pretty small.'

'They're not my bodyguards now.' Quatre suddenly realised it was true. He wasn't the heir to anything anymore. He wasn't important enough to need his own personal security. Rashid, riding shotgun beside Auda, twisted around to look at him. He obviously hadn't thought of it either.

'They're just friends.' Quatre smiled warmly at the big man who'd been a second father to him. 'And yes, they are coming but I've booked a hotel for them.

'No probs,' Duo assured him. 'You can stay as long as you want, you know that.'

'Thank you. Ah, I may also need to borrow some clothes, until I get to go shopping. What with everything that's been going on, I never got around to packing.'

Duo's laughter floated into his ears, from across the galaxy. 'Role reversal, huh? That's cool, Cat. I'm not working tomorrow. We can go and get you a whole new wardrobe.'

'I'd like that. I'm warning you, though. I'm going to be a nervous wreck all day.' He closed his eyes briefly. 'I just …. I really want things to work out.'

'Me too,' Duo said sincerely. 'Look, I'll see you later. Have a good flight.'

_Have a good flight._

The words were still blowing around Quatre's head as he boarded the Winner shuttle. It had been two weeks since the last time he'd stepped off. There was a stupid, stupid little voice in his head suggesting that Trowa would have seen him on the news by now, that Trowa might be waiting for him at the other end.

Stupid.

Of course he wasn't.

Zechs was, though.

'Hello!' Quatre beamed up at his tall friend. 'This is a lovely surprise. What are you doing here?'

'Meeting you. Duo thought it seemed wrong for you to arrive back on Earth with no one to welcome you. He's making you dinner and Heero had a meeting he couldn't get out of.'

'How nice of him! Are you going to stay and eat with us?'

Zechs shook his head. 'Not tonight, no.'

'I suppose things are a little awkward,' Quatre said delicately. 'Between the two of you.'

For the tiniest second, Zechs' expression, unguarded, was achingly bleak. Then the smile was back.

'Actually, no,' he said brightly. 'He says I make a much better friend than a boyfriend, and it apparently gives him license to be brutally frank with me. He and Wufei keep ganging up on me.'

'And that's going all right?' Quatre asked, hurrying to keep up with his friend's longer legs as they walked down to the parking area.

'Oh, yes. Very much so. He's having tremendous fun bossing me about and re-ordering my life. That's why I can't come to dinner, actually. He's volunteered my services to run a charity fashion show next month; we're supposed to be meeting some prospective designers and models tonight.

'Well, once you're happy. I am sorry though. About Duo.'

Zechs shrugged. 'I always knew it would be Heero, in the end. Still, I got to have him for a while. That was something. Not every fairytale has to have a happy ending.'

'No,' Quatre agreed sadly, thinking of his own.

Zechs gave him a keen look. 'Are you still sure you want Barton?'

'Of course! Why wouldn't I? I love him!'

'Let me see.' Zechs stopped at his car and opened the passenger door for Quatre. 'You made one mistake, and he's totally cut you out of his life. He's never given any chance to explain. Do you really want to be with someone like that?'

'It's not really like that. There were so many things I never told him about myself, but when I did we always managed to work it out. I don't blame him, really, for how he feels now. I should have just been honest from the start and we wouldn't be in this mess.'

'It's hard, though, isn't it?' Zechs turned the key in the ignition, a bitter-sweet smile hovering around his mouth. 'Being that honest with someone you don't really know? So much easier to pretend. Right, let's get you to Duo's.' He flicked on the radio as he drove out of the car park. Conversation over, then.

Duo's apartment was simply charming. There were stars and planets on the ceiling, and the walls and wooden floor were covered with trailing plants and imaginary animals. It also smelled deliciously of food cooking and Quatre suddenly realised he was hungry. He hadn't been eating much lately.

'This is lovely!' He gazed around, entranced, and Duo laughed.

'You're very welcome. Now, I'll dump your bag in my room. Heero's just called to say he should be here in a few minutes. Do those bodyguards you trail around need to be fed? I made a tonne of food, just in case.'

'No, they've gone straight to their hotel. It's weird, not having them.'

'Good weird?'

'Excellent weird,' Quatre told him firmly, taking the gifts he'd bought for Duo out of his bag. 'These are for you. A small thank you for letting me stay here.'

'You didn't have to do that!' Duo protested, but he was clearly delighted with the books on L4 architecture, and Arabic art. 'They're great, Cat. Now, since my dear boyfriend seems to be running late, would you like some wine before dinner?'

'How is Trowa?' Quatre waited until Duo had served them both before asking the question.

Duo shrugged. 'Really? Not so good. Missing you like hell, but won't talk about it. Cat, I hate to say this, but what if this doesn't work? Will you go back to L4?'

'I don't want to. I've got a job here now, and at least I don't have to pretend to be someone I'm not anymore.'

'Good.' Duo smiled at him. 'I like having you around.' He looked up as the front door opened. 'Oh, that must be Heero. Good, we can eat now.'

Heero, looking as self-conscious as Quatre had ever seen him, bent to give his boyfriend a quick kiss on the cheek, while Duo glowed up at him. They were so utterly, shiningly _perfect_, those two. Duo was teasing Heero about his lack of time-keeping skills, and pretending he'd made Heero's favourite dinner and it was ruined. Quatre's stoical, reserved best friend was offering apologies and excuses and promises to make it up somehow, and then blushing fiercely when Duo whispered something in his ear.

Heero was clearly enchanted with everything Duo said or did. Duo was fractionally less obvious, but just as smitten.

It was exactly what he wanted, Quatre realised, watching them. Not some fairytale romance, but this loving reality.

Teasing, and asking little questions about each other's day, and Duo wanting to know all about the new client Heero had been meeting, and Heero producing a tub of Duo's favourite ice-cream for dessert.

It was beautiful to watch his closest friend so happy, but it made his heart crack, just a little. He'd had something similar, with Trowa, and he'd thrown it away.

And maybe Trowa would never forgive him, whatever he tried to do to make amends.

He quashed that evil, insidious little thought, and forced himself to enjoy what he did have. A delicious meal, and two wonderful friends, who cared about him, and a lovely evening in their company.

That should be enough for anybody.

After they'd eaten every scrap, Heero and Duo started to bicker over whose turn it was to wash up, and whether the person who'd cooked should be the one to do it, or the person who'd just swanned in the door – _late_ – and expected his dinner to be on the table.

'I'll do it,' Quatre offered suddenly, jumping up and starting to collect plates, over Duo's protests that he was a guest and shouldn't have to work.

It was only fair that his friends should have a little time together, after all. He could give them that much. The problem was, when he had all the dishes and cutlery stacked in the kitchen, that he wasn't quite sure what to do next. Heero had taught him how to load a dishwasher, but Duo didn't have one, and he had no idea how to wash up by hand.

'Need some help?' Heero was leaning against the door jamb, grinning.

'Yes, please! I'm sorry; I wanted to do this, and let you and Duo have some time alone.'

His friend shrugged, crossing over to the sink. 'Don't worry about that. Now, first you need to scrape off the leftovers. Like this.'

'Oh, right. Thank you.' Quatre sighed. 'You know, I lived with Trowa for days, and I never once offered to wash up or help out with the chores. It never even occurred to me. No wonder he doesn't want to be with me.'

'I'm sure that's it,' Heero agreed amiably. 'He dumped you because you never made the bed.'

'Ha ha,' Quatre muttered. 'It's true, though, and I never thought about it 'til now. When I told him who I really was, Trowa said I just wanted to live a fantasy of a normal life, and in some ways he was right. I don't think I ever truly thought it could ever be real. What we had, yes, it was wonderful, but it was rather like a holiday romance. A lovely little interlude but one that was going to have to end eventually.'

It was true, the more he'd thought about it. They'd talked about the future, once or twice, but never in specifics. Never any definite plans about how they could make it happen.

'I want what you and Duo have,' he said finally. 'You love each other, but you're friends too. Anyone can see that. It's real, what the two of you have.' He shook his head. 'I keep using that word, but it fits. I think Trowa and I both felt we were in some sort of magical fantasy bubble, a lot of the time. Something that wasn't going to last.'

'But you want it to?' Heero questioned, turning on the tap and rinsing the glasses.

'More than anything, yes.'

Heero turned to look at him. 'If you want that, then you have to make it happen, and convince Trowa it's what you really want.'

'I know.' They finished the washing-up, while Quatre told him about how things had gone on L4, and then Heero said it was time for him to go home. Duo walked him to the door, and from the sitting room Quatre could hear them laughing together.

'You know, he didn't have to go just because I'm here,' Quatre said when Duo came back.

'Hmmm?' Duo split the last of the wine between their two glasses and settled on the sofa with him. 'Oh, I get you. No, we talked about a lot of stuff, that first night, and we agreed we want to take it slowly, you know? Do the whole dating thing and get to know each other first.'

'I think that's a wonderful idea. I wish Trowa and I had been able to do that. I wish we'd had time to get to know each other properly.' He sighed. 'I wish I'd just been honest with him from the beginning.'

'Yeah.' Duo settled comfortably back against his cushion, cradling the glass of wine in his hand. 'But you're going to fix it, right? So, what's the plan for tomorrow?'

'Um, on-the-hour panic attacks?'

'I can imagine.' Duo took a sip of wine. 'Cat, it's not going to be easy. Even if he turns up at Stardust in the first place. I love the guy, but he's a stubborn jerk and once he makes up his mind on something, that's usually it.'

'I know. I just want to see him. I just want to ask him to let me explain. It's up to him after that.'

'Hey.' Duo leaned over to squeeze his shoulder. 'Don't look like that. I said it won't be easy, that's all. And you seem to have pretty amazing powers of persuasion when it comes to him.'

'I don't know about that.' Quatre grinned suddenly. 'Your advice to offer to be his sex slave worked last time though!' He drained his glass, thinking about it.

'I can open another bottle if you like?' Duo offered. 'If you don't mind supermarket plonk.'

'No, it's fine. It's just ….the other times, I'd never actually lied outright. Not as such. I just hadn't told him things, and he was always willing to listen when I tried to explain. Well, eventually he was, after he'd shouted a bit. But that night, he actually asked me, straight out, if I was hiding anything else, and I said I wasn't.' He tapped his fingers on the stem of his empty glass. 'And then Heero came up with that radio report.'

'Not great timing,' his friend agreed. 'He's kind of black and white where honesty is concerned. As you've possibly noticed. And the fact that you hadn't told him about an engagement, well, that was the worst thing ever, for him. He probably wouldn't have gone quite so ballistic about anything else. I didn't know him after Treize, but from what Wufei and Cathy told me, he just shut down for months.'

Quatre nodded. 'And then I came along and did exactly the same thing. More or less. God, Duo, do you think he'll be able to get past this?'

Duo dropped his gaze. 'I dunno, Cat. I really hope so, for both of you.'


	34. Endings and Beginnings

Disclaimer: I only own them in my head, and sadly reviews don't transfer to financial gain.

Note: Huge thanks as always, to the wonderful Kaeru Shisho, for liking the original idea, and then got lumbered with another epic to edit, and to Wolfje for the positive comments and the distractions (without which I'd have finished this days ago…)

**Endings and Beginnings: **

He ordered a beer in Stardust, simply because a man sitting at a bar without a drink would attract too much attention. Holding the glass gave him something to do. The beer was the same imported Belgian brand he'd drunk the last time.

Everything else was different though.

He hadn't bothered dressing up too much, not wanting to stand out. Just nice jeans and a t-shirt, with his hair gelled. He'd looked at himself in Duo's bathroom mirror before leaving, and he looked nothing like the young man in the tailored suit who'd spoken at the press conference on L4.

He got a couple of second glances, and one or two approving nods, so maybe he was still slightly recognisable, but no one said anything.

No one at all.

He called Duo shortly after one, after the barman had called last orders and people had begun to leave.

'Well?' his friend demanded. 'What's happening?'

'Nothing. Nothing at all. He's not coming, Duo. They'll be closing up in a minute. I might as well come back.'

'You're just giving up?'

'Of course not! But this was a stupid idea. He probably turned off his TV the minute he saw me on it. He knows I'm back in Sanque. Maybe I should just let him decide whether he wants to see me and when. Maybe I shouldn't have tried forcing his hand like this. He's obviously not ready and maybe he never will be.'

Duo, on the other end of the line, was silent for once.

'What?' Quatre demanded.

'Maybe nothing. But Middie called me a while ago and she said he was …different today. Not so depressed about everything. She caught him smiling to himself a couple of times. Like he was excited about something.'

'He's probably met someone else. Someone who hasn't lied to him.'

Duo snorted. 'Someone who's not the love of his life, and who hasn't given up a fortune to be with him. Yeah, right. I really doubt that. Cat, listen. You're sure he would have understood that message you left for him? It was romantic and all, but it was kind of vague.'

'I don't know. I think so. It's not like I've been going around making wishes non-stop for the past few weeks or I …OH!'

'What?'

'I'm so _stupid_! I never even thought of that, but of course that's where he is. Duo, I have to go!'

'Wait!' his friend wailed down the phone. 'Have to go where? Where is he?'

'I'll call you.' Quatre slid the phone into his jacket pocket as he dashed out of the club and flung himself into the car Rashid had hired.

'Where are we going, Master Quatre?'

'I'm not sure,' Quatre confessed. 'It's a beach, on the way to a place called Prospect Point. I think I'll know it when I see it. I think it's about an hour from the city. Trowa's car should be there, I hope. Rashid, can you please hurry?'

He was there.

The green Volvo was the only car in sight, just where Trowa had parked it the last time.

He was there.

Rashid got out of the car with him, peering dubiously at the steep track that led to the beach. 'Master Quatre, you shouldn't go down there alone.

'I'll be all right. There's moonlight. And I'll call if I need you.' He couldn't help laughing at the big man's anxious expression. 'I'll be fine. I can't exactly go to a romantic assignation trailing bodyguards behind me.'

'Call us if you need anything,' Auda rumbled, stepping out of the car to stand beside Rashid and handing him a small torch. 'Good luck.'

'Thanks.' Quatre gave them a little wave and headed carefully down the path, trying to concentrate on not falling, and on remembering to breathe. His heart was hammering in time with the waves booming into shore.

He knew exactly where Trowa would be, and of course he was. The far end of the beach, under the cliffs. Where they'd first made love. Getting there, in near darkness, with only the faint beam of the torch was a challenge. He slipped on a couple of patches of seaweed, and one leg was soaked to the knee after a sudden plunge into a rock pool. It was freezing too; far too cold for his light linen jacket and t-shirt.

Trowa had been sitting on a rock, and slowly got up when Quatre stood in front of him.

'Hello, Trowa.' He said it through chattering teeth, hoping the words even made sense.

'God, you're freezing.'

'Yes,' Quatre agreed stupidly, and then found himself wrapped in Trowa's coat and Trowa's arms. 'That's better. I love you, I'm sorry.' His teeth couldn't stop chattering; he hoped Trowa could understand a word he was saying. 'Thank you.' Quatre whispered, pressing as close as humanly possible to the other man. 'Thank you so much for coming.'

It was all right. Everything was all right because Trowa was there. Heart singing, Quatre reached up to kiss him, and abruptly Trowa let him go.

'I'm sorry,' Quatre whispered, crimson. Idiot. Of course they needed to talk first. He couldn't just fall into Trowa's arms and expect everything to be perfect.

'You'd better take this before you get pneumonia.' Trowa slid his coat around Quatre's shoulders. 'You want to take a walk?'

'Thank you. Yes. OK.' Quatre buttoned the coat around him tightly, soaking up Trowa's warmth, as they headed down the beach.

'So,' Trowa said finally. 'Big step. How's it feel?'

'Terrifying. Truly terrifying. I don't think it's really sunk in yet, to be honest.' Ouch. Bad word choice.

'A lot to give up,' Trowa said tonelessly.

'I suppose so. I'll miss my family most, I think. They drive me insane most of the time, but I'm used to them being around. My father's planning to visit Sanque as soon as his doctors say it's safe for him to travel. He's going to stay here for a couple of weeks, so I can show him around, and then he's asked me to go on a trip with him. Maybe Italy or France for a week. Or Spain. He's never been to Earth before so he's really excited.' He bit his lip to stop any more babble. Trowa would hardly care about any of that.

'That'll be nice for you.'

'It will, yes. Ah, I suppose you heard what I'm planning to do. My new job.'

Trowa nodded. 'Are you seriously planning to move in with Duo?'

'Oh, no! That was just for a night or two. Heero's rented a house for six months; it's got two bedrooms and he said I can share with him if I like. I've said I'll think about it.'

'So you get to have your normal life after all. That was all you ever really wanted, wasn't it?'

'You know it wasn't.' He grabbed Trowa's hand suddenly, pulling him to a stop. 'You _know_ that. And you're here. Doesn't that mean anything?'

'We needed to talk about stuff.' Trowa jerked his hand free. 'I'd rather you didn't do that. There are a few things I need to sort out. First, I don't want to spend the rest of my life with Duo trying to convince me we're star-crossed lovers or some crap like that. I'd really appreciate if you could get him to back off a bit.'

'Oh! I'm sorry. I never meant…Trowa, I never _asked_ him to get involved with any of this. Really.'

'_Really_?' Sarcasm laced viciously through his voice. 'So you haven't been calling him a dozen times a day? You didn't rush off to stay with him the minute you arrived back in Sanque? Thanks for that, by the way, Quatre. It's nice knowing you're making my friend, who also happens to work for me, take sides in all of this.'

'It wasn't _like_ that! I rang him because I was worried about you. It was the only way I could have some idea how you were. And I only stayed with him so I could talk about you. I know it sounds stupid, but it's true.'

Trowa, rather miraculously, didn't make any cracks about Quatre's notions of _truth_. 'Right. I'll talk to Duo. I'll tell him we're over, and I'd appreciate him letting it go. It would help if you could stop trying to make him play Cupid for the two of us. Since you're apparently his new best friend, _and _a friend of Heero's, I suppose we're going to end up meeting every so often. For their sakes, I suppose we can manage to be civil to one another.'

'Is that what you want? For us just to behave like polite strangers whenever we meet?'

'No, Quatre.' Trowa's voice was very low, dark and cold as the waves thundering against the rocks. 'Actually, that's not what I want at all. 'What I _want_, is for you to get out of my life, but that's not an option, is it? Since you've decided you want to come and live in my city, and play at being a regular person and God forbid Quatre Winner doesn't get exactly what he wants.'

'Fine. I'll leave.' That was it then. It had always been a possibility; just one he'd tried very hard not to think about.

'That's it?'

'Of course.' Quatre canted his head slightly, gazing into Trowa's eyes. 'I just wanted to see you, one last time. I wanted to try to explain, and to tell you how very sorry I am. But I can quite see how it's going to be awkward for you if I'm living here. I never actually thought about that, but you're perfectly right.'

'What did you think was going to happen, Quatre? That we could just fall into one another's arms because you made one grand gesture?'

'No. I didn't think that. Well, I did, but I knew it was just a stupid fantasy. The grand gesture, as you call it….I just wanted to show you I'd meant what I said about none of it being important to me. Not compared to being with you.'

'So what's the back-up plan?'

'No back-up plan. Not this time. I have no idea.' He shrugged. 'Take the first flight tomorrow out of Sanque to anywhere, maybe? See where I end up. It doesn't matter.'

'I didn't mean you had to leave straightaway.'

'There's no point in staying though, is there?' He could feel the tears starting to prick behind his eyes. This was it then. At least he'd tried. Too late. 'I'll talk to Duo. I'll try to get him to stop bothering you. Trowa, I really, really hope everything works out for you. I hope you meet someone who'll realise how amazing you and who'll make you happy. Please, if you do meet someone, give him a chance. Not everyone's like me. I hope you'll find the right person. And I hope you'll get your book published one day.'

'Oh!' Trowa was suddenly smiling faintly. 'About the book. I got a letter from a publisher this afternoon. They want a few changes, but they're interested. I haven't even told Duo yet.'

Quatre forced himself to smile back. Of course. That was why he'd been happy in work earlier. Nothing to do with Quatre at all. 'That's wonderful. Congratulations.'

'Yeah.' Trowa hitched one shoulder. 'I always thought it was the one thing I really wanted. Doesn't mean a lot now, though.'

'Well, it should,' Quatre told him firmly. 'It's amazing. I'll definitely buy a copy when it comes out.' He forced himself to smile. 'I hope it's a best-seller. Um, this probably doesn't mean very much right now, but thank you for everything.' He half-lifted one hand and dropped it. Trowa had already said he didn't want to be touched.

This was it.

_Just walk away, Winner._

'Right. Good bye, then.'

'I'll walk up to the road with you, if you want. It's dark; you'll only end up falling in the sea or something.'

'Thank you. I've already fallen in a rock pool, getting here.'

'I can imagine. Why the hell did you pick this place? I thought you'd changed your mind and weren't coming at all.'

Quatre, suddenly, didn't know whether to laugh or cry. He wasn't sure if the wetness on his cheeks was from tears or sea spray. 'I didn't pick this place at all. I was at Stardust. Where I first met you.'

'What the fuck did you go there for?'

'It was the place we met! And we sat on the terrace and looked at the stars.'

'Shit. Cat, I never even thought of there. How the hell did you expect me to understand something that obscure? I assumed you'd meant here. You said on TV that you were going back to some place you'd made a wish that came true, and this was where we had sex the first time, and you told me who you were and….' His voice trailed off into silence.

'I should have told you all of it then,' Quatre whispered. 'I wish I had. You have no idea how much.'

'Another wish,' Trowa said wryly.

'One that can't come true.' He stopped, looking out to sea. With the moon hidden behind a cloud, it was almost black. Trowa walked on a few steps and then swung back to stand beside him.

'Trowa, I'm not trying to excuse how I behaved to you, but I've spent my whole life keeping secrets; that I'm gay, that I never really wanted to take over WEI, that I never thought I was good enough. I've always been terrified that people would find out who I really was. I'm not used to being able to be honest with people. I'm not sure I know how.'

'Try.'

Just the one syllable, very low. It was something. At least, Trowa was willing to listen.

Quatre pulled the coat more tightly around his shoulders, searching for the right words. 'I've spent my whole life trying to live up to what people expect of me,' he said finally. 'When I was very young, maybe four or five, I remember eavesdropping on two of my sisters. I knew I wasn't supposed to do that, but all my sisters used to sneak around and try to find out each other's secrets, and it was fun, hiding and hearing things I wasn't meant to.'

'You must have been a total brat.' Trowa's voice was oddly affectionate.

'I suppose I was, but I was lonely, most of the time. They were all older than I was, and they treated me like a baby. Anyway. It was the day before Annabelle's twelfth birthday and she was crying because Mother wasn't there to come to her party. She said it was my fault that Mother wasn't there, and she hated me. I didn't really understand about death, and I thought she meant I'd done something awful and that was why Mother had left.'

He hadn't actually realised he was crying again until Trowa wiped a hand across his face.

'It sounds a bit silly now, but I thought…I thought it meant that if you weren't perfect, then people would leave you. The people who were supposed to love you and care for you. So the only way to make them stay was to be perfect. I've never really thought about that for years, you know, but I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I can still remember it exactly. I was in Bella's wardrobe, and she had so many lovely silk dresses. I used to like hiding in there. And I thought I had to be such a horrible boy if I'd made my own mother leave and my sister hated me like that.'

'You never told anyone?' Trowa demanded.

'I'm telling you, now. No, never anyone else. Oh, thank you.' He took the tissue Trowa handed him and scrubbed his eyes. 'Sorry. Actually, I did talk about a little of this to my father, when I got home. It's odd. I thought he'd be so furious about all of this, that he'd end up disowning me or something, but he didn't. I think we're starting to become friends, almost.'

'That's one good thing that came out of all this, then.' His voice had softened a bit, during Quatre's recital.

'Yes.' The tissue was useless, soggy already.

'God, you're a mess, Winner.'

'I know.' It didn't, suddenly, matter all that much, because Trowa had taken him in a rough hug. 'Please, don't let me go. Please.'

Trowa's lips touched the top of his head. 'I've been fucking _trying_ to let go of you for days, and I can't seem to manage it.'

'Good,' Quatre said idiotically. 'Please don't.'

'OK. I won't. Now, tell me about Relena and this engagement of yours.'

'Oh.' Quatre picked at the woollen sleeve of Trowa's sweater. 'Trowa, ever since I was seventeen or so, I've been expected to escort girls to parties and functions. To prove how _normal_ I was. When Iria suggested actually getting engaged, it didn't seem all that different. Yes, I do know that sounds insane,' he added wryly.

'She came up with the idea just after Jordan had written to me the first time. She was furious with me, for how I'd behaved and let the family down, and could cause a huge scandal. I think I'd have agreed to anything, just to stop her yelling at me. It was never actually something that seemed real, if that makes any sense. Just another performance. I don't know if I'd ever really have gone through with it. Before I met you, that first night, I was pretty sure it would never happen. And 'Lena didn't want to marry me either, not really. Iria just convinced her she'd be doing a wonderful thing for her country. And once I met you, I knew for certain I could never be with anyone else. Honestly, Trowa, the reason I never told you is because it was never real. I swear. On my life.'

Trowa's arms tightened around him. 'I sort of over-reacted, maybe.'

'And I totally understand why,' Quatre said quickly. 'Totally.'

'Yeah. What's happening with that Jordan guy? Did you sort that out?'

'Yes. Last week. I did what you said, and what my lawyers had told me not to do. I called him. It was…odd. Like talking to a stranger, almost, at first. But I think we sorted some things out. He said he partly did it because his new boyfriend convinced him that it would be good for me in the long run, to have to accept who I was, and good for all gays on L4 to have, I don't know, a role model or something. It was never really about the money. Anyway, I think most people know about me by now, so it's not all that important any more.'

'He's still a friend?'

'Not any more. He could have ruined my whole life. I don't think I can past that, whatever his motives were.'

Trowa nodded. 'You didn't deserve to be treated like that.'

'Well, it's over now.' He tucked his face into the curve of Trowa's shoulder. 'What are we going to do?'

'What you need is to go home and get dried off.' Trowa didn't let him go, though. 'Do you have a car? Tell me you didn't pull some stunt like hitching out here by yourself.'

'No. Rashid and Auda are with the car. I really need to learn how to drive.'

'There's a thing we have in Sanque called public transport,' Trowa suggested.

'Yes, I do know about that. Duo and I took the tram into the city centre this morning. It was fun although it's a bit awkward that the driver doesn't take credit cards and you have to have the right money.'

Trowa, rather helplessly, started to laugh. 'You really have no clue about how regular people live, do you?'

'I can learn! I was on the tram, and I'd love to ride on the top of a bus and look out the windows and maybe go a train. Duo took me to a supermarket and that was fun too. So confusing though. And the assistants weren't at all helpful, even when I asked! You have to get everything off the shelves yourself and then push the trolley all the way around the floor.'

'Shit, I wish I'd seen that.' Trowa kissed him again, on the bridge of his nose this time. 'Cat, you're totally sure this is what you want? It's not going to be easy, you know.'

'I know. Well, I don't know really, but I can imagine. And I am learning how to do things. Heero showed me how to wash dishes last night although I wasn't very good at it. I expect I just need to practice.'

'I'm not just talking about stuff like that. I mean, us. You've thrown away everything for me. How the hell am I supposed to live up to that? What happens if you end up regretting it in a few months when the honeymoon's over?'

'I don't regret it now,' Quatre said sincerely. 'I haven't regretted it for one second, not since I first came up with the idea, and you can hardly say that's been a honeymoon! Really, all I've lost is a job I never wanted. It's going to be difficult not seeing my family all the time, but I can visit, and maybe persuade them to come to Sanque.'

'And the servants and all the rest your life of luxury?'

'I'm sure I'll manage. I was never very happy, you know. And I'm not exactly going to be poor. I still have a job, and I'll have a fairly good salary.'

'But no trips to the Caribbean?'

He was teasing, Quatre realised. It was all right. 'Oh, well, it's possible. I do have a bank account. We could still go, if you liked. Anyway, you're going to be a best-selling author soon. You could take me to the Bahamas or somewhere with your royalties.'

Trowa laughed. 'I'm not in J.K. Rowling's league just yet, so I wouldn't get too excited. Cat, honestly, what was your plan for tonight?'

'The _fantasy_, and I know it was silly, was that we'd just fall into each other's arms and live happily ever after. I don't think it's going to be like that, though, is it? Not after everything that's happened. I think we both need some time to get used to everything.'

'Yeah.' Trowa gave him a quick squeeze. 'You know, what Heero and Duo are doing, the dating thing, I'd sort of like to do that. For a while anyway. What would you think of that?'

'I think it's a wonderful idea. It's all been horribly rushed, hasn't it? But we don't have to rush things any more. Assuming you don't mind me staying in Sanque, of course?'

'I got used to having you around. I missed you. A lot. Even when I was trying to convince myself how much I hated you.'

'I missed you too.' He caught one of Trowa's hands, and linked their fingers together. 'Thank you.'

'My pleasure.'

'Mine too.' He squeezed Trowa's hand, heart soaring when Trowa returned the pressure. 'I think, maybe, we should get to know each other a little better, don't you? There's far too much I don't know about you. I didn't have a clue how to handle all of this; I know you told me you didn't want to see me again, but I didn't really know if you just needed some space, or if you really meant it, or if deep down you wanted me to come after you.'

'I meant it at the time,' Trowa said quietly. 'Then you were gone by the time I'd calmed down a little bit, and then I got angry all over again because you weren't there so I could yell at you.'

'Sorry.' Quatre snuggled as close as humanly possible. 'It was horrible timing, all of it.'

'Not that bad, how it's worked out. The two of us, alone, on a deserted, moonlit beach. Could be worse.'

'A _freezing_ deserted moonlit beach,' Quatre corrected.

'I could warm you up if you're cold.'

'I thought you wanted us to do the dating thing.'

'And that automatically precludes sex?' Trowa pulled him into an embrace that left Quatre in no possible doubt that he would be let go any time soon. 'I'm sorry. I want to do things right this time. Just us. No bodyguards and no sneaking around and no fucking reporters.'

'And no beating up the people who tell the fucking reporters about us?' Quatre suggested slyly.

Trowa groaned. 'No, none of that either. I do get that I fucked up.'

'Me too,' Quatre agreed. 'Um, I mean I fucked up as well.'

'I don't think I've ever heard you swear this much before.'

'I don't think I ever have. Maybe it's because I'm happy.'

'Are you?' Trowa loosened his hold, just enough to tilt Quatre's head up and look at him.

'Absolutely.' It was true. He was shivering despite the too-big, borrowed coat, and he'd lost feeling in one foot and the other squelched when he walked but he was still happy. 'I really do love the idea of us dating properly, but I'm still more than happy to spend the rest of my life as your sex slave.'

Trowa laughed. 'Shit. You know, it would have been way simpler if you'd just said that at the start of this conversation.'

'Well, I'll know what to do next time we have a row.' One of Trowa's hands was resting lightly on the back of his neck, stroking little circles on the skin. 'I do love you, you know.'

'Yeah, I sort of figured that out. Hey! How am I supposed to say it back if you beat me up?'

Quatre let his hand drop. 'Do you?'

'I do. Totally and utterly. Now, we really should get you somewhere warm. You're shivering. We have _got_ to get you some clothes that are actually suitable for this climate.' He grinned. 'And if those guards of yours are going to stick around, you'd better buy them something normal to wear.'

'They're not my bodyguards any more; just friends. They're going back to L4 in a couple of days. I don't actually have an entourage now. Just me.'

'You have me.'

'Thank you.' Oh, this was happiness; Trowa's hand had slid under his collar and his fingertips were moving gently downwards, sparking off little explosions of star-durst. Quatre arched into the touch, looking up at the sky. No stars; the moon was too bright. It didn't matter, not now. He'd got his wish.

And then Trowa kissed him, and there were stars after all

_A dream is a wish your heart makes _

_when you're fast asleep._

_**In dreams you will lose your heartaches.**_

_Whatever you wish for, you keep. _

_**Have faith in your dreams,**_

_**and someday, your rainbow will come smiling through**_.

_No matter how your heart is grieving,_

_if you keep on believing, _

_the dreams that you wish will come true._

-Cinderella

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